Driving Miss Santana
by mykindofparty
Summary: Sam's summer job is to drive Santana around and get paid. He also gets a lot more than he bargained for. By the end he thinks they just might be friends despite her insistence that they're not. Samtana friendship. Eventual Brittana.
1. Chapter 1

Driving Miss Santana  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own Glee. But I did just find a dollar in my pocket.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Sam's summer job is to drive Santana around and get paid. He's providing for his loved ones and all the mouth jokes in the world won't make him quit, but he also gets a lot more than he bargained for. By the end, he thinks, they just might be friends despite her insistence that they're not.  
><strong>Note:<strong> Set after Nationals. I guess spoilers for all S2. Awkward Samtana friendship/ Dysfunctional Bam friendship/ Eventual Brittana

* * *

><p>Sam really has no idea why he agreed to do this in the first place. He and Santana broke up when she started dating Dave. And now that the truth about her sexuality is out, Sam can't imagine why she wants to <em>hire <em>him. He wants to say, _oh, you got your license taken away? Too bad, bitch_. But he doesn't. He only smirks when she explains about her various parking tickets and speeding tickets and seatbelt violations. She also mentions something about having a warrant out for her arrest in Florida, but he's pretty sure she made that one up. That's when she surprises the shit out of him by asking- no,_ telling_- him to be her chauffeur.

He's not a _total_ sucker and this sounds like a trap so he has every intention of declining until she starts talking about the pay. Then suddenly, he's interested. But driving Santana around during the day means he can't watch after his brother and sister. She has a solution for that, too. Her nanny– which makes Sam snicker– basically does jack shit during the day anyway so he can drop his siblings off at the Lopez household. Suddenly one hundred bucks Monday through Friday doesn't sound like a bad deal at all.

"Right, so basically anywhere I need to go you take me. You can drive my car, but if you so much as put a scratch on my ride, I will pimp _you_ out to those West Lima crack hoes. My dad will pay you every Friday. And if I call you on the weekend needing a ride, I'll pay extra. Look, we're not friends. You're to call me Miss Santana or Miss Lopez or ma'am. I will most likely call you Fish since a big mouth bass would kill to have lips like yours. Let's get one thing straight; you're gonna earn your twenty dollars a day," Santana concludes.

He has a million questions like why she'd want to hire him when she has a nanny to do stuff for her, but doesn't ask. Sure, it seems like an easy way to make money and all, but Sam wonders if it will be worth all the abuse. Driving his ex-girlfriend around is not his idea of a fun summer. He'll certainly be miserable, but those hundred bucks a week helps his family big time and, despite Santana's best insults, it makes him feel like a man. He's providing for his loved ones and all the mouth jokes in the world won't deter him.

He starts working for Miss Lopez as soon as they get back from Nationals. There's a couple weeks left of classes and it's not too bad for now, mostly just shuffling her back and forth between school and the mall and Breadstix. Of course, she always refuses to sit in the front seat and makes him listen to angry-girl-rock-chick music. It's always too hot or too cold for her and she yells at him to make it right. She lights up a cigar one time and he wonders how she ever fell into _that_ habit.

The real test begins once summer officially starts. Now that his brother and sister are out of school, he has to drag them over to Lima Heights once he gets the call or the text or the occasional facebook message. He finds out later that she almost sprung for walkie-talkies, which he thinks is a little awesome, but his cell is always on. The Lopez house is the nicest on the block and has a swimming pool. Santana's nanny is always super irked to see him whenever he rings the doorbell, but looks after the kids just fine. He knows because they always tell him how much fun they have.

He doesn't have fun. He wonders if she really needs shopping trips three days a week or countless manicures and pedicures or if she's just doing all of this to keep her mind occupied. Once, she makes him drive around the block seventeen times before he can go home. His parents aren't really sure how they feel about him being employed by their least favorite of his former girlfriends, but they can't deny they need the money. His brother and sister aren't bothered by Santana's harshness and thank her every chance they get for letting them use her pool all the time.

It's pretty much what he expected, but what he didn't expect was to see Santana crying in the backseat one early June morning. He's noticed that Brittany texts her frequently, which makes sense considering he thought they were best friends except the texts always put Santana in a worse mood than before. They were inseparable from what he's heard, although he's never really seen a lot of that other than during Rocky Horror. But then again, he was a little preoccupied with Quinn at the time to notice the other blonde cheerleader and her bitchy BFF. Still though, he can't understand why Santana just doesn't ask Brittany to drive her around. She'd probably do it for free and she actually likes Santana.

"Fish."

Oh, damn. Sam forgot that was his nickname. Sam only looks into the rearview mirror, not daring to respond. He sees tears streaming down her face and wonders what a sweet girl like Brittany could have possibly said to make stone-cold Santana cry. But then he thinks it might have to do with the fact that Santana's about as straight as a circle.

"Take me to the Pierce's."

"You want to get something pierced? Cool! Or what about a tattoo?"

"Damn it, Sam! Turn the music down. Take me to Brittany's."

"Whatever you say, Miss Santana."

Sam grins. He finally has a goal for summer: getting Brittany and Santana together.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam isn't really too sure whether or not he can leave once he drops Santana off at Brittany's. He's not sure how long they'll be in there or what exactly they'll talk about, but he's surprised to find he actually cares. Not like in a creepy "I want to watch them get it on" kind of way, but in an honest desire for their happiness. After all, if his boss is in a good mood, he's in a good mood. Okay, maybe that's a little selfish, but he just wants to be able to pick the radio station from time to time. He's had enough Alanis Morissette for one summer. Sam doesn't have to wait too long for an answer though. A livid Santana is storming out the front door and into the car faster than he can say bolo tie.

"Well as fate would have it, I was just about to leave," he jokes in a half-hearted attempt to make her smile.

"Fate is an elegant, cold-hearted whore," she replies.

"Oh, what song did you steal that line from?" He banters back, but soon regrets opening his big fat mouth.

"Do you bathe in axe body spray? God, I need a cigar just to drown out the stench. You really are trying to play the part, aren't you Fish? You got the look and smell down pat. Speaking of cigars, didn't I tell you not to let me smoke them in here? What kind of dumbass can't even follow my simple directions? And when was the last time you cleaned the car? There's bird crap on the hood and oh my God, is that a French fry on the floorboard?"

He knows she's frustrated with the Brittany drama going on, not that she'd ever talk to him about it, so he doesn't mention he tried to stop her from smoking. At the time, she threatened to dock his pay and mumbled something about blaming it on Lord Fumblington. Tumblington? Ah, Tubbington. That's it. Sam also doesn't mention that she's the one responsible for the scattered fries. She bought them for the sole purpose of pelting him.

"You know what, Fish? Let's go burn off some steam."

It used to be when she said that they'd have sex. Now he's unsure what she means.

"Hello? The gym? You know, the only place people care that your muscles outnumber your brain cells."

Leave it to Santana to say what's on her mind. It does, however, snap Sam out of his daze and he makes his way back to Lopez's so she can change. He is only inside long enough to say hi to his sister before Santana is gliding back down the stairs looking hotter than ever. She removed all traces of sadness and anger within minutes and he wonders how she's able to compartmentalize so quickly.

The drive to the gym is silent; each lost in his or her own thoughts. Sam begins to panic when he realizes he doesn't have a membership here, but calms down when he sees the girl working behind the counter. A little flirting and he's in, which makes Santana roll her eyes so hard that Sam wonders if she can see her own brain. Which would be _cool_. What else is cool is that they never do this. They never do anything together. Everything is always about the destination with Santana so Sam appreciates that she let him tag along for the journey.

"Fish, your fly is down."

Sam looks, momentarily forgetting he's wearing gym shorts. The cute receptionist laughs.

"Gotcha," Santana grins.

He tries not to seem flustered and fails. He opts to start his workout on the opposite side of the otherwise deserted gym. Everything's going just fine until he notices his demonic boss hasn't moved and she's staring right at him.

"Something wrong?" he calls out.

"What I wants is some motivation. Take your shirt off before I take it off for you."

"Why? It's not like you're even attracted to me. You basically told me that every day while we were dating."

"Take the damn shirt off. As much as you love your abs, I might love them even more. Who knows? Maybe I'll take my shirt off too."

"I'm pretty sure that's against the gym rules. We could get kicked out!"

"Your. Abs. Now."

She's making her way towards him with an evil glint in her eye and he's quivering ever so slightly. The argument should end here. He should just oblige her, but instead he refuses to so she pulls a stiletto out of her Cheerios gym bag and threatens to stab him with the heel. The gym's only other patron, an older heavyweight man, wheezes as he gets the staff to break up the fight. That's when they get kicked out. Well, she gets kicked out and he has no choice but to follow. Sam apologizes to the trainer who has to drag Santana's scrawny ass into the parking lot and she kicks and screams all the way.

"We could try the Lima Fitness Center," Sam suggests.

"Nah," she shrugs, "I already got banned from that one."

"Well what are we supposed to do? We were in there fifteen minutes and LFC's the only other gym in town."

"Gee, I don't know, Sam. Perhaps my basement? You know, the one with the home gym?"

"Then why did we go- oh. I get it. You just wanted to embarrass me. Real cool, Santana. It's bad enough that I have to do everything you say, but I actually thought you wanted to do something as friends."

She has the audacity to laugh right in his face before replying, "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Consider it a hazing ritual. But if you want all the perks that come along with being my _friend_, you'll have to give up your job. We clear?"

"I'm not your little whipping boy, Santana."

"Oh I beg to differ. If it makes you feel any better, you just got promoted from chauffeur to personal assistant. Of course, driving me around is still one of your duties. The good news is that we'll be spending even more time together! Super, right?"

It's a stalemate. Sam knows if he gives an inch, she'll take a mile so for now things are just going to stay the same. He figures the sooner he gets Brittany and Santana on good terms, the sooner he just might make a new friend.

When he gets home that night he gives his little brother all the Axe he owns. He'll pick up some Old Spice in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam hasn't heard from Santana all day. He thought maybe their argument yesterday would just blow over, but it is past noon and he's a little nervous. He's not sure if that means he's fired because Santana told him they'd be spending _more_ time together and he worries she's changed her mind. She loves keeping him on his toes and he hates the uncertainty of it all. So instead of worrying, he takes the rugrats to McDonalds for lunch and figures they can run around the playground for a while. He can't really keep them occupied in the motel room all day especially when they're accustomed to spending their time at Santana's.

Sam's almost finished with his Big Mac when he spots a familiar face, and she makes a beeline for him once she's done ordering her food.

"Where's Santana?" Brittany asks with a hint of excitement, "Is she in the bathroom?"

"Uh no Brittany, I'm sorry. She hasn't called me. We're either in a fight or I'm her new best friend."

"Hard to tell sometimes, isn't it?"

"Yeah how do you- oh, I think your food's ready."

"Yep, that's mine. Be right back."

Brittany's at Sam's table again in a flash, smiling over at his sister who seems to recognize her.

"What were you saying before? Oh hang on, Santana just texted me. It says: _if Fish wants to keep getting paid to be my bitch he better be at my house in an hour," _then Brittany adds, "To be honest Sam, you should've asked for a lot more money."

"Huh?"

"You make a hundred bucks a week, right? Say on average you work eight hours a day, five days a week. That's only two-fifty an hour. I hear the Lima Bean is hiring. You could try there."

"Yeah, but I don't work forty hour weeks. I barely work at all. I have a lot of down time. Or I did until she made me her personal assistant."

"Ask for a raise then since you got a promotion. I know what you're thinking though. How could I have ever possibly figured out that basic math?"

"No I wasn't. I don't think you're like that at all. I get numbers jumbled up in my head a lot. I guess one hundred dollars sounded better in my head."

There's a brief silence until Brittany breaks his train of thought saying, "She says I'm making excuses not to be with her. That's why we're fighting. I know you want to know because you stuck around my house for about twenty minutes trying to figure out if you should leave. She always thinks she wants something until she has it. Take the home gym for example. It collects dust down there. The trampoline, the moon shoes, and Barbie's dream townhouse all reside at my house now."

"Yeah, but Brittany, those are all _things._ You're the person she cares most about in this world. You're probably the _only_ person she cares about."

Brittany was on the verge of crying before, but now the tears are flowing free. Sam sighs, but pats her back to comfort her. After a while the sniffling subsides and Sam looks at his watch only to realize he's got thirty-seven minutes before he has to be at Santana's.

"Sam?" Brittany asks, "Here, how about I pick up some Breadstix and take it over there. You should also probably buy her a present. Just in case you wanna bargain with her. Or if you'd rather blackmail her she'd appreciate that too."

* * *

><p>Sam looks down at the bag in his hand. Walkie-talkies were his favorite as a kid and he figures Santana might like them too. The nanny lets him and she ushers the kids out back to the pool while he starts to make his way to Santana's room, but stops when he hears a voice.<p>

"Sam? Is that you? Why, it's nice to see you again dear," Mrs. Lopez says as she quickly shuts the basement door.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm just going to head up to see Santana," he replies. It's not that he doesn't like Mrs. Lopez; it's just that he's only ever met her once and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

"Well, I wasn't aware that you two were dating again. But then Tana never really tells me anything these days. She could certainly use a nice guy like you though. I never caught you trying to sneak in or out like that rude Puckerman boy."

Sam just nods, not bothering to neither confirm nor deny Mrs. Lopez's suspicions and makes his way to Santana's room. The door's cracked and he feels guilty for listening in.

"I'm just saying, Santana, Italy wasn't built in a day," Brittany concludes.

"Don't you mean Rome?" Santana responds, but her tone isn't harsh like Sam expects.

"Nah, it took even longer for Italy. First there were lots of volcanoes and shifting tectonic plates and erosion. It took thousands of years to make it that cute boot shape."

"So you're saying it's going to take that long for us to be together?"

"No, I just mean that we should take it slow. You haven't come out to everybody yet, not that the glee club hasn't figured it out."

There's some shuffling that sounds like Styrofoam takeout boxes, without a doubt from Breadstix. Sam chances a peek inside to see the two girls hugging. Brittany's back is to the door, but Santana catches him watching, interrupting their moment.

"About time you showed up, Macaulay Culkin," Santana calls out, "I can smell your fish scent a mile away. You can come in only if you brought me a little somethin-somethin. That's your punishment for eavesdropping."

A grinning Brittany lightly smacks Santana's leg and the two share a meaningful glance. A guilty Sam sheepishly makes his way into the bedroom with his gift in hand. He hands them over to his boss with only a mumbled, "I hope you like them."

"Sweet," Santana says, "Dave still has my pair from the Bully Whips. I was going to get another set, but I figured you might overdose on nerdiness. Anything else you want to add there? Like maybe how sorry you are for getting us kicked out of the gym?"

Sam doesn't reply or assert that it was her fault so she continues, "Brittany already told me what you want. I'll talk to my dad about a raise, but I can't promise anything. There is a party Friday night and if you take me and Brit, I'll give you fifty extra out of my own pocket. Well, I guess it's still coming from my dad, but whatever."

"Yes Miss Santana," Sam nods, "What's on the agenda for this afternoon?"

It's a baby step, but hey, Italy wasn't built in a day.


	4. Chapter 4

I warn you now... the first scene is a little disturbing.

* * *

><p>It's eleven thirty on Thursday night and Sam is dreading the party tomorrow. He tried to talk Mercedes into coming too, but their relationship is still too new. He didn't want to push her so he was a little relieved when she declined.<p>

There's nothing to do so he's out by the motel pool, backpack resting on the lawn chair next to him. He's not sleepy, but doesn't want to disturb the rest of his slumbering family with his restlessness. A little relaxation never hurt and he's contemplating getting a midnight snack from the vending machine.

He doesn't hear the voice at first, but the gasping breaths and rumbling moans soon garner his attention and it's too loud to ignore. At first he thinks it's coming from somewhere inside the motel, but he realizes the noise is much closer and slightly muffled.

"_Ah, B, I wish you were here, oh… God it feels so good… I'm gonna, I'm gonna…ohhhh. Yes, ohhhh!"_

He can't find that damn walkie-talkie quick enough. As he's digging around in his book bag, an elderly couple walks by and Sam can tell they're mortified. Things go from bad to worse as Santana's voice rings out in ecstasy. He wants to shut it off because it's just so _wrong_ and the volume is turned all the way up and he considers throwing the thing into the pool until her voice crackles through the speaker once more.

"_Sam? You weren't supposed to hear that. I am so _sorry. _My fingers just kept mashing the button. Over."_

Freaking Santana. And Sam wants to be furious, but he can't because this is the funniest prank she's ever pulled on him. He's just glad his family wasn't here for this. He knew something was up earlier today when he came back from the bathroom. She looked so smug and now he knows she was setting him up, so he plays dumb.

"You're just kidding around, right? You weren't actually... you know…"

"_You're supposed to say over! But that is for me to know and you to fantasize about. I just can't control myself sometimes. Anyway, I need you to take me somewhere. Over."_

"Why are you radioing me so late?"

"_Say over! And Brittany said I couldn't use a shock collar on you like I originally wanted. So I settled. By the way, it's ridiculous how easy it is to embarrass you. Over."_

"Thirty bucks and all I can eat at Taco Bell and it's a deal. Over."

"_Ah, you catch on quick. Actually, I take that back. If you did you never would've taken this job in the first place. Ten bucks and one combo. That's my final offer so get yo ass on over here. Over."_

* * *

><p>Once they're in line at the drive thru, the bickering resumes. She starts it like always, "I thought you were like, super obsessed with your body so what are we doing here? Besides, eating this late is bad for your metabolism."<p>

"I'm still a dude, you know?"

"Really, are you? I had no idea."

"I can pig out every once in a while. Hey! Isn't that Kurt's Escalade?"

"Yeah, must be Flabby, I mean Finn. Kurt wouldn't be caught dead at Taco Bell. Oh look, I think he's drooling! And he's waving, Fish. Careful though, if you wave back he might piss himself."

Finn is like an overeager puppy dog, so overjoyed at seeing his fellow glee club members that he can't contain his excitement.

"Hey guys!" Finn yells as he motions for them to roll the windows down, "I thought I recognized your car, Santana, so I circled back around the building once I got my food so I could say hello! Why are you in the backseat?"

Sam glances back at Santana in the rearview mirror. It's just the sort of question she's dying for Finn to ask so she can mess with his mind, "I'm waiting for Sam to come back here so I can have my way with him."

Finn frowns, "I didn't think you two were dating anymore."

"What can I say? That trouty mouth keeps reeling me back in," she retorts.

"That's kinda weird, but okay," Finn mumbles, or maybe he says, "Didn't think you rolled that way," but as he drives away both Sam and Santana burst into laughter.

* * *

><p>"A graveyard? Man, I knew you were into some weird stuff, but I was not expecting this. I heard from the football guys that you really are Satan, but I never saw your 666 tattoo, so I knew it couldn't be true. Or are you a vampire slayer?"<p>

"No."

"Demon hunter?"

"No."

"You're meeting your cigar dealer?"

"That's not until Tuesday."

He's pestering her and he knows it. But she won't explain why they're trekking through the Holier Than Thou Cemetery at one o'clock in the morning. When they arrived she told him to just wait in the car, but being a gentleman, he refused to let her wander off alone. Of course, then she calls him a pussy and teases that he watched too many episodes of _Are You Afraid of the Dark_ as a kid.

As they make their way through the rows of gravestones that go on for miles, Sam pauses to really look at her for the first time that night. She doesn't have a lot of makeup on and she's wearing this oversized Cheerios tee shirt and shorts. For once she looks seventeen. There's a lantern in one of her hands and flowers in the other. He gets it now. She's here to pay her respects, but he's not sure who. He entertains the thought that she might be here for Jean, but that doesn't seem quite right.

"We're here," she whispers.

He looks down.

_Eduardo Reynaldo Lopez. 1937-2005. _

_Sophia Jimenez Esposito Lopez. 1944-2002._

Despite the dim lighting he can see that she's already crying. This is a side of her he's never seen. Probably no one's seen this Santana except for Brittany.

"Mis abuelos," Santana explains, "came to live with us after my abuela's first stroke. My dad made them move from their condo in Florida. My mom hated the idea of them living with us because it meant she'd have to look after them while my dad worked long hours at the hospital. She already had enough trouble keeping up with me because she's a flake, but that's a story for another time. So she convinced my dad to hire a nurse, the lady who later became my nanny."

Sam nods, processing all this new information as Santana lays the flowers down at her grandparents' graves before she continues with her story.

"Both of them hated it here in Ohio; it was too cold, so different from Florida. I think the only reason they agreed to move here was for me. I have so many memories with my grandpa. My grandma was sick a lot. Abuelo always let me eat ice cream on the back porch while he smoked his cigars. He got into so many fights with my mom about her never being around and he criticized her for not teaching me Spanish from birth. He looked after me because nobody else in my family would, plus he loathed my mom."

"I wish I could have met him. He sounds awesome," Sam replies.

Santana laughs, "He would've liked you and he adored Brittany almost as much as I did. Well, I still do. You probably have a million questions, but can you just take me home now?"

"Sure," he smiles, "thank you for sharing this with me."

"It's times like this that I really wish Breadstix was open twenty-four seven," she gripes.

"Totally," he agrees as he helps her into the car.

On any given day she's likely to fire him, throw fries in his face, shake ashes on the floorboards so he has to clean it up, and use him as a human stepping stool. But other than her ridiculous fake masturbation prank designed for the sole purpose of making him uncomfortable, today they were _friends._

"Fish! The speed limit's forty-five and you're going like thirty! You could be doing sixty!"

Well, almost.


	5. Chapter 5

"So like, whatever happened to your pizza delivery job?"

Sam sighs. He knew this would come up eventually; what he didn't expect was Finn of all people to ask. After their late night encounter, Finn texted him this morning asking if he wanted to play X-Box. Sam doesn't have to be at Santana's until much later so he agreed.

"I got fired right before we left for nationals. Usually I just deliver the pizzas, but one day they were short staffed in the kitchen and needed me to help. Well this one lady asked for a pepperoni pizza so I thought it would be cool to put them in the shape of a rocket. Turns out she thought it was a penis and complained."

"Relax dude, it's not so bad. Kurt probably would've eaten it."

Sam's horrified, but needs clarification so he asks, "Please tell me that you mean it's because he likes rocket ships or pepperonis, right?"

Oblivious as ever, Finn replies, "Of course. What did you think I was talking about?"

Sam doesn't answer. He's still not quite sure how he feels about Finn. Finn's the guy who took Sam under his wing only to throw him under the bus, but at the same time Finn is as dumb as bricks. He can't be trusted though. Oh well. They're only playing video games, not talking about important things like girls.

"So are you and Santana dating again?" Finn pries. He's grinning.

Crap.

"Nah man, I'm just taking her and Brittany to a party tonight."

"Both of them? You better buy 'em dinner first otherwise they won't make out in front of you."

The old Sam would've been thrilled. This new, more sensitive Sam feels like punching Finn, but leaves instead to go find his _real _friends.

* * *

><p>"<em>Go away. We're busy. Over."<em>

"Santana please let me inside. I just completed the checklist you threw at me from your bedroom window. I washed the car, changed the oil, filled it up with gas, cleaned out the trash, I even got you a new air freshener!"

"_So? Over."_

"You said when I was done you'd let me in!"

"_I lied. That is all. Goodbye. Get over it. Over."_

"Do you want me to take you to this party or not?"

"_Fine. What's the password? Over."_

"Seriously? Um… okay. Molten lava?"

"_Nope, strike one. Over."_

"Wait! I only get three chances? Is it… Santana is the supreme ruler of the universe and I bow down before her greatness? I mean, Miss Santana, of course. And also who is as beautiful as Santana? Nobody. Come on, it's burning up out here. Just let me in."

"_It's a pass_word_, not a pass-paragraph. Strike two. Over."_

"Why do you have to make things so complicated?"

"_Strike three- you're out. I said the password like a million times. It's over. Over."_

He's about to walk away until the door opens. It's Brittany. She silently ushers him up to Santana's room and when he walks in he sees his satanic boss lying facedown on the bed in nothing but her bra and panties. Santana's head is turned so she doesn't notice his presence.

"Brit-Brit, what took you so long to get a drink of water?" she whines, "I missed you."

"I have a surprise for you," Brittany smiles and pecks Santana on the cheek.

"Yeah? It better involve… oh it's you," Santana scowls and Sam is suddenly thankful looks really can't kill. He sees now that she's wearing a bathing suit instead. That answers at least one question.

"So where's this party?" Sam inquires, "Finn didn't seem to know too much about it and he's like, the quarterback of the football team."

"Tell me something I don't know, Fish," Santana smirks, "And Finn wouldn't know about this party because it's not anywhere near Lima. Don't worry your stinky little fish head; I printed out the directions for you."

"Why would you want to go to a party with people you don't know?"

"Why would I want to go to a party with people I _do_ know?" she counters, "I hate all the people I know except Brittany. And you're kind of growing on me. Like a fungus or something. Besides, if you get nervous just give them your _Sam I Am_ speech. They'll think you're_ totally_ cool."

This time it's Sam's turn to scowl, "Oh haha. Very funny."

Always the peacemaker, Brittany suggests a game. Santana's idea of a fun game is finding ways to trick Sam into leaving and his favorite game is Star Wars Scene-It so they're at a crossroads. Then Santana suggests drinking games, but Brittany assures her there will be plenty of time for that later.

"Fine," Santana snaps, "We'll just play my favorite game. It's called two truths and a lie. Me and Brits can't answer for each other since we know all there is to know."

Brittany goes first and Sam figures it out without a moment's hesitation. Her lie is something about having a pink hair and her truths are about how much she loves her cats and Santana. But it's when Brittany goes to the bathroom that Santana says something that sticks with him.

"The trick is to keep people guessing. Sometimes I tell two lies and a truth or even just three lies. Or other times I make sure my truths are really outrageous and then people will believe any ordinary lie. It's not about what's right or wrong, it's how you tell people things. But Brittany always sees right through my lies. She even sees through the truth sometimes, if it's not the whole truth."

She's opening up to him, piece by piece.

* * *

><p>These jocks are making it difficult for him to get inside.<p>

"My name's Jake Sully," he lies, "and I'm here with those really hot girls you just let in. Just ask the blonde one. You don't know it yet, but they like to make out with each other so I'm gonna go find them."

There. Two truths and a lie. It's enough to get them off his back so he slips in the door and scans the room. There's no sign of Brittany or Santana anywhere so he wanders into the kitchen. He's a little shocked to see a girl no older than twelve peering at him from the other side of the refrigerator.

"You're a little young to be at this party, aren't you?" he asks.

"It was my stupid brother's idea," she responds, "I just came down here to get some water. I'm going back upstairs to watch a movie. What's your name?"

"Jake Sully," he answers.

"Nice try. I've seen Avatar like a million times. What's your real name?"

"It's Sam. You like Avatar? You wanna watch it?"

"You mean you'd rather watch a movie with me than hang out with kids your own age? That's creepy."

"Yeah well, I didn't want to be at this party anyway. My friends made me drive them. Plus I could never pass up an opportunity to practice my Na'vi. So what do you say? Can I join you?"

"Hmmm. I guess. But don't try anything funny. My meathead of a brother could snap you like a twig."

Three hours, two bowls of popcorn, and one epic movie later, Sam emerges from upstairs only to go into panic mode. He forgot all about keeping an eye on Brittany and Santana. He scours the room for any signs of the two. Fortunately he doesn't see any blood or any of Brittany's clothing.

"Jake!"

Oh crap. It's those jocks again.

"Dude! You weren't kidding. Those chicks totally started going at it once they had a few drinks in them."

Sam gives them a sly smirk, "Yeah I know bro. So any chance you've seen them?"

"Uh, well they started making out after the blonde one swore she was gonna strip. Then the Mexican was crying and now I think they're both in the basement."

"She's not Mexican!" Sam shouts as the boys wander off.

He makes it to the bottom of the basement stairs when he sees Santana crying in the corner, caressing a lamp.

"This girl looks just like Brittany. So blonde and pretty and smart and she… She is just so Brittany," Santana wails.

"There's no one else around, Santana," Sam gently responds.

"Fuck it then! I wants Brittany," she moans, "By the way I lied when I said my favorite game is true tooths and a lie. It's really a tie between strip poker and rock, paper, scissoring."

"Okay," he whispers, "We'll find her together."

It doesn't take long; Brittany's sitting on the couch talking to an ottoman.

"You had a good thing going, didn't you? Running an empire must be tough. Santana's like that too, she always has to be on top. Ha. Oh, you open up? You only open up for me, I know it," Brittany slurs, "I tried to take my clothes off 'cause I feel so free without 'em, but then Santana got all hot and then we kissed."

A few other people are staring, but wisely look away when they see Santana glaring at them.

"Brittany, we founded you," she murmurs in between hugs and sloppy kisses. Brittany's bashful grin and glossy eyes indicate it's time to go and Sam's relieved. It's getting late and he still has to drive back, but not before Brittany and Santana both grab a to-go cup of hunch punch despite Sam's warnings that it's a bad idea.

* * *

><p>It turns out his intuition was right. They're entering Allen County when they get stopped at a sobriety checkpoint. Thankfully there are several cars ahead of them and Sam is begging his passengers to dump their cups while they can, but that only inspires Brittany to sing another round of <em>My Cup<em> and the lyrics are even dirtier than Sam remembers.

"Fuck the police!" Santana yells.

"Okay I'll do it, but only if you're there too, Tana," Brittany retorts and it sends them into a fit of giggles, "Besides Sammy, I can't finish my cup. I need you to do it for me."

"Uh, no that is the worst idea ever. Dump it out the window or on the floorboard or something. Anything. It just can't be in here, okay? I'm freaking out," he screams and just as soon as she's finished pouring her drink out, an officer taps on Sam's window. At least Brittany is on the passenger's side.

"License and registration please, young man," the officer commands.

Sam hands it over. Santana burps. More giggles.

"Have you been drinking this evening?" It's a fair question. There's no doubt the two girls in the back of the car have been.

"No sir. I was just taking my friends home," Sam replies.

"Son, this car belongs to Doctor Lopez."

"Ociffer, if I can explain," Santana slurs, "My friend Sammy here just wanted a good time and me and Brit-Brit agreed. Now we gotta find a bed or else we might all just start going at it right here. So if you just let us go we can get our threesome on."

"None of that is true, I swear. I really am just taking them home," Sam stammers.

"Relax, kid. Her dad's an old poker buddy of mine. Just make sure they get home safe. You're lucky I recognized the car though otherwise you'd be in deep shit," the officer says, "As for you, Santana, your dad will be hearing from me. At least we took your license away. Hello Brittany. It's been a while since we caught you running around naked."

"I'm getting better at hiding," Brittany laughs, "Plus I don't streak through the Allen County Courthouse parking lot during the day anymore."

"Thank goodness, sweetie. Now get home and sleep it off."

The tension in the car is thick until Brittany farts and all three grin. Then a farting contest ensues and Sam's sides are aching from laughing so hard when he finally pulls into Santana's driveway.

Sam dodged so many bullets tonight that he feels like James Bond.


	6. Chapter 6

**Txt me back. Last night we  
>did something we shouldn't<br>****have after you dropped us  
>off<br>****12:03 PM Sat, June 4  
><strong>**From: Santana L.**

**You're not in jail, are you?  
>12:06 PM Sat, June 4<br>****To: Santana L.**

**You think they let you text  
><strong>**from jail? Bitch please.  
>12:07 PM Sat, June 4<br>****From: Santana L.**

**Ok. What did you do then?  
>Unless this is about sex, in<br>which case I don't want to  
>know.<br>12:10 PM Sat, June 4  
><strong>**To: Santana L.**

**No… Well, maybe. Just  
>bring two sets of clothes<br>with you. We're hiding in  
><strong>**the bathroom at Lima  
><strong>**Parks and Rec.  
>12:11 PM Sat, June4<br>****From: Santana L.**

**And hurry up because being  
>barefoot in here's so trashy.<br>12:11 PM Sat, June 4  
><strong>**From: Santana L.**

**And being naked isn't trashy?  
>How bad is this situation?<br>12:13 PM Sat, June 4  
><strong>**To: Santana L.**

**You ever see either of the  
><strong>**Hangovers?  
>12:16 PM Sat, June 4<br>****From: Santana L.**

**Oh my god. Vegas or Thailand?  
>12:18 PM Sat, June 4<br>****To: Santana L.**

**Thailand… definitely Thailand  
>12:19 PM Sat, June 4<br>****From: Santana L.**

**Right well try not to steal  
>any tigers before I get there<br>****12:20 PM Sat, June 4  
><strong>**To: Santana L.**

**U dumb shit. That was Vegas.  
>And where the fuck would we<br>find a tiger in Lima  
><strong>**12:23 PM Sat, June 4  
><strong>**From: Santana L.**

* * *

><p>"How much trouble could two seventeen year old girls get into in Lima?" Sam wonders, then is reminded that his boss and her best friend are nothing like the other girls in this town.<p>

There's some mom shooting him dirty looks as he slips inside the ladies' room at the park. This is the third restroom he's tried. Three's the magic number though, and there are two sets of bare feet visible from under the handicap stall.

"Guys? I brought some clothes. They're just my sweats and some t-shirts. Mom looked at me real funny and asked if I was running away, but they're clean so I figure you don't have to wear them longer than…"

"Why do I have to wear the Star Wars shirt?" Santana complains.

"It's not like I know what my shirt is supposed to mean either, but it has a chicken on it so I wanna wear it," Brittany replies.

"That's actually from Robot -" Sam begins, but is interrupted by loudmouth.

"Don't care. We're still barefoot."

Sam refuses to go get shoes for them, but they finally come out with armfuls of Christmas decorations. Brittany's sunburned from passing out naked and is wearing candy cane earrings that she most certainly wasn't wearing last night.

"I hope you brought some aspirin too," Santana moans, "_Brittany_ doesn't have any in her purse."

"Hey! I had to make room for all your stuff," Brittany pouts, "You're the one that insisted we travel light."

"My stuff? Oh you mean my weed."

"Jesus, Santana!" Sam hisses, "There are other people around! That one lady already thinks I'm a perv for meeting you in the bathroom."

Santana ignores him, "Wait, check and make sure it's still in there. I have a terrible feeling it's not."

"Umm…"

"Brittany, where is it?"

"It's still in the golf cart and I think we lost that."

Oh great. Sam Evans: Weed Finder Extraordinaire. That won't be going on his resume.

* * *

><p>"Damn it smells in here. Must be those ten bean burritos you ate the other night."<p>

Sam ignores her, "So what happened after I dropped y'all off? I figured both of you went to bed."

"Never underestimate my stamina, Sammy," Santana drawls, "And honestly that is so not our style. Besides, when we got back my deadbeat mother was still awake so we snuck into my dead neighbor's house and stole even more decorations from her collection. Turn right here! Turn right… Sam you fucking missed the turn. Now we're going to have to find somewhere to turn around. All the while my weed is just basking in that damn golf cart for the whole freaking cow pasture to see!"

"Okay. For one thing, I didn't even know that you smoked pot. Second of all, how did you get a golf cart? Third, why did you just abandon it in this field?"

"You know what? I do smoke occasionally… I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone as fabulous as me in a town this small with nothing else to do who doesn't smoke from time to time. Just saying. Plus, you know, it started out we were just gonna cover Jacob's house in all this Christmas crap – sorry Brittany, I mean Christmas _décor_- and then somehow from there all this other stuff happened that I don't entirely remember."

Brittany agrees, "Yeah Sam. So now we have to fill in the blanks. And not like in a cool Mad-Libs kind of way."

"Yeah… Well, here we are. And there's your weed. Good thing the cows didn't eat it all," Sam grins.

"If they did, that would be some weird tasting milk," Brittany giggles, "I don't remember where we got this thing from, but I think I know why we left it out here. No more gas."

"I can't believe it even made it this far outside the city limits especially when the road becomes gravel," Sam says.

"Brittany, stash it," Santana whispers, "Farmer Ted at two o'clock."

Sam whips his head around to see a man in overalls heading towards them. He's toting a shotgun over his shoulder, but doesn't seem very menacing otherwise.

Sam turns back to the girls to shout for them to run, but they're long gone. They made a break for the car as soon as they saw this mystery man make his way over. Unfortunately for them, Sam has the keys.

"Hold it right there, son."

Not this again. Sam's frightened to speak for the second time in less than twenty four hours.

"Now your little friends over there were disrupting my cows last night. They chased them around in that golf cart until it stopped running. Then when I came outside to see what all the commotion was about, I discovered their naked selves laughing about nothing. When I tried to talk to them they ran away. I would've chased after them, but I didn't want people getting the wrong idea, an old man like me running after two girls."

"Um," Sam stammers, "How about you just keep that golf cart and we'll pretend nothing ever happened."

Sam doesn't even care that it's not his to give away. He just doesn't want that gun pointed anywhere near him.

"Fine by me. You seem like a good kid. You might want to consider some new friends."

"Thank you, sir. I'll do that."

"One more thing. They kept yelling something about a puck."

Sam nods then waves goodbye before walking back to the car. This wild goose chase is getting old fast. They have what they came for so hopefully they won't have to swing by Puck's. It's exhausting being Santana's friend or employee or bitch or whatever he is to her.

"We have to go by Puck's," Santana insists, "Especially because I have to find that outfit I was wearing last night. I looked smokin' hot."

"What?" She asks when Sam gives her an incredulous look, "My clothes are floating around Lima somewhere and I swear I will find them. Today. So just click the little unlock button and let's be on our way."

"Yeah, some heroes y'all are," Sam mumbles, "Running away like that."

"We were just following the motto. When in doubt, pussy out," Brittany chimes in.

"Something tells me that's your motto for more than one thing."

* * *

><p>Thankfully Puck isn't home when the trio arrives at his house. They're about to leave when Brittany spots a pair of panties on the roof. She sneaks in the back gate and the next thing Sam knows, she's climbed up there to get the misplaced underwear. She's carrying all of Santana's clothing from the previous evening when she gets back.<p>

"Hey guess what! I remembered what happened. We wanted to mess with Puck's head so we were about to sneak into his bedroom window and then Santana took all her clothes off and I think I was already naked. Then we crawled in his room and convinced him that he was dreaming and made out. Maybe we also stole his weed. I dunno."

Sam frowns, "You're telling me that Puck had two hot girls in his room and didn't pinch himself to see if he was dreaming? You're kidding me."

"Oh please," Santana says as she files her nails, "Puck is super easy to fool. Once, I made a bet with him that I could go a whole week without showering and that no one would notice. I totally won since that dumbass didn't say anything about not bathing."

"You're like a Transformer, you know that, right?" Sam asks Santana.

"She's a robot in disguise?" Brittany inquires.

"No," Sam replies, "There's more than meets the eye."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Santana laughs, "And I only saw that movie for Megan Fox."

Sam grins, "Touche. And we should totally go watch it except we still need to find Brittany's clothes."

Brittany sighs, "Like I said. I never streak through the courthouse parking lot during the _day_."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, as the closing credits for <em>Revenge of the Fallen<em> scroll across the screen, Sam glances at Brittany and Santana huddled together on the couch. So maybe their drunken adventure wasn't nearly as crazy as they made it out to be and he never did find out where the golf cart came from, but he's glad they're safe and now he even has something in common with Santana. Summer's finally starting to look up.

"By the way, both of you are invited to Casa de Lopez tomorrow night for family dinner."

Shit. This has disaster written all over it.


	7. Chapter 7

"Wait, she invited you to eat dinner?" Mercedes squeals. This is just too good. "Or did she invite you to be eaten for dinner? Knowing her she's probably a cannibal."

"I know," Sam whispers through the phone, "I have no idea what to expect. I mean, I've met both of her parents individually, but I've never seen all three of them interact. It's freaking me out a little."

"I'm guessing family dinners don't happen often," Mercedes responds, "I went over there a couple of times to rehearse for _River Deep_. Saw the mom once or twice, but we never spoke. I met her dad at a Cheerios event. Maybe you should ask Brittany how these things go."

"I'd tell Brittany I'm nervous, but she'll tell Santana who will go out of her way to make me feel awkward."

"That's nothing new. Santana goes out of her way to make everybody awkward. I guess you could talk Puck. He'll probably tell you."

"Yeah, I think I will. You're the best, Mercedes."

"That's sweet. Hold for just a second- Kurt's on the other line. Mind if I take it?"

"Not at all, babe. I'll text you later."

"Date night soon?"

"Sure. Her dad's supposed to pay me tonight when I go over there."

* * *

><p>"Hey Puck."<p>

"Who's calling?"

"Sam."

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"Sam Evans."

"Not ringing any bells."

"From glee club?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry dude. I only keep chick numbers in my phone."

"Anyway so I was wondering if you could tell me about Santana's family."

"Her mom chased me out of the house once with a frying pan. Other than that we've never had any communication, which is a real shame since she's a total MILF. Her dad's also never spoken to me, but Santana said that I'm not allowed to clean their pool. Why are you asking me about her? Are you two dating again? Because I'm not sure if you noticed, it didn't turn out so good the first time."

"No, I'm just invited to this thing they're having."

"Good luck, bro."

* * *

><p>He gets even less information when he calls Finn.<p>

"Dunno," Finn says, "The only real time we hung out alone together outside of glee club I rented a motel room."

"Motel? Oh you must be talking to Sam. Hello Sam!" Rachel enunciates. Wherever Finn and Rachel are, she only heard the tail end of the conversation.

"Hey Rachel. What do you know about Santana's family?"

"I've never seen them at any glee club functions, if that's what you mean, and I distinctly remember her saying when she came to my house party that this would be the only time we would ever step foot on each other's 'turfs.' Then afterward whilst intoxicated, she told me that we could 'totally hang out and braid each other's hair and eat vegan carbs.' After Nationals, however, I am frightened to take her up on that offer."

"That helps, I guess."

"Finn has assured me that you and Santana are not dating again, so I wish you the best in your endeavor. Goodbye, Sam."

* * *

><p>"But you helped her write <em>Trouty Mouth<em>, Tina. How can you not know anything?"

"I did meet her dad briefly. He told me to eat an apple a day."

"Not much to go on, but thanks."

"Ask Mike. He's right here."

"Hey Sam. I have not met her parents, but I can imagine they're just as frightening if not more so. They probably hate you since you're dating their daughter."

Sam hangs up.

* * *

><p>"Sam, it's about time you called. You're a little late though, I'm taken," Kurt jokes.<p>

"Right. I'm sure Mercedes told you why I'm calling."

"Yes she did. I wasn't aware that you two were close friends now."

"Uh… Yeah. Ever since that day we ran into each other in the parking lot," Sam lies.

"To answer your question, all I really know is that her parents are huge Cheerio supporters. They were the only platinum donors in the booster club last year- and trust me, that's a lot of cold, hard cash."

* * *

><p>"Hey Sam. I didn't see you at church this morning. Let me guess, you want to know about Santana."<p>

"Wow, Quinn. Word travels fast. And yeah, anything you can tell me that might help."

"Don't mention the situation. It's not exactly a secret anymore, even if she won't admit it."

"Wasn't gonna bring it up, trust me."

"Good. I met Santana shortly after we moved to Lima, just before high school. That summer I went over to her house and swam a lot. Her nanny would make us snacks and her dad was working most of the time. Her mom was sort of MIA. When Dr. Lopez was at home, he always seemed super nice. I did have dinner with them once and it was mostly Santana arguing with her mom about getting her bellybutton pierced. From what I've seen she gets along with her dad fine, she just misses him."

"Thanks so much, Quinn."

"I'll pray for you."

Yikes.

* * *

><p>Lauren doesn't answer her phone which is fine by Sam. He doesn't bother calling Artie.<p>

* * *

><p>This isn't working. Brittany's not concentrating; instead she's doodling all over Sam's arm with a pen.<p>

"Brittany, focus."

"Oh. Mostly they catch up on their day or days depending on how long it's been since the last family dinner. Adriana has this new job as a real estate agent so she talks about that occasionally. Roberto sometimes tells gross work stories 'cause we've always loved those. They ask Santana about school, but never about glee club. Santana and Adriana usually end up fighting and one of them typically storms off. Last time it was because Santana's gained weight since we quit the Cheerios."

Sam scoffs, "You can't even tell!"

"I know, right? Look, I drew a penis on your arm without even realizing. You might want to wash it off before we head over there."

There's no way she didn't realize. There's too much detail.

"Where is Santana anyway?"

"Don't tell anybody, but she went golfing with her dad since he has the day off. She's never played before, but everybody gives her a hard time about it so I hope she's okay. Don't repeat this either, but she'd do anything if it meant spending more time with him."

"She's afraid to lose him like she lost her grandparents, isn't she?"

Brittany grimaces, "Yeah."

Attempting to lighten the mood, Sam snags the pen away from Brittany and draws a pair of breasts on her arm. Sam smirks, "There. Now all we need is a vagina."

Brittany laughs, "I'll draw one on Santana later."

* * *

><p>Sam's not sure how he gets roped into helping Mrs. Lopez in the kitchen while Brittany scampers off to find Santana. All he knows is that the woman's holding a frying pan and he's frightened.<p>

"So what should we make tonight, Sam?"

"I'm not sure Mrs. Lopez."

She flashes him a look; the kind a lion gets before a kill, but before long she's plastered on a smile again, "Please, call me Adriana."

"Alright, Adriana," Sam blushes, "How about tacos?"

Sam can tell she's offended by the request, but her façade is impeccable. Now he knows where Santana gets it.

"You know what? I'm not much of a cook so how about we order some Chinese? Does that sound good to you?"

"Yeah, perfect."

"Great. Now run along and find Santana and Brittany. While you're at it, tell my lovely daughter to please turn the music down. It's giving me a migraine."

Sam trudges up the stairs, not at all excited to watch the two girls make sex eyes at each other from across the room. There's a steady stream of bass pumping throughout the house and it's a miracle Santana hasn't blown out her speakers. Sam knocks and when there's no answer, he knocks harder.

"Mother, I know the food isn't ready yet so leave us alone," Santana barks.

"She's ordering takeout," Sam replies. He tries the doorknob. It's locked.

"Go away, Fish."

"Your mom said to turn it down."

"The music ain't the only thing a-thumpin' in here right now so maybe in a little bit."

"She doesn't mean that, Sam," Brittany calls out, "We're just talking."

"Either way, come back later," Santana yells.

Sam huffs, but wanders down the hallway until Dr. Lopez spots him from his office and invites him in.

"Hey there, Sam. How are you doing?"

"_Try not to act like you've seen his daughter naked," _Sam thinks. Easier said than done.

"I'm great, sir. Can I just say that I really appreciate you letting me have this great job? Because it's great. Just great."

"_Geez, how many times am I gonna say great?" _Sam wonders.

Dr. Lopez looks slightly baffled by Sam's response, but proceeds, "Look, son. I don't mind doing it, but I have to know. Are you and Santana dating again?"

"_No. Because your daughter's gay."_

Damn his innermost thoughts. At least he doesn't say it out loud.

"No!" Sam replies a little too quickly, "No. I like someone else, actually. Her name's Mercedes Jones, but nobody really knows we're dating yet."

"Ah yes. I met Mercedes. She's a _great_ girl," Dr. Lopez says with a smile.

"_Oh God, he's mocking me. He can read minds. He knows everything. He knows I dye my hair, he knows Santana is a lesbian, and he knows Brittany's cat smoked the last cigar. He's gonna kill me. Chop me up and feed me to his family for dinner. Roast Sam. Sam with green eggs and ham. Sam I Am just a meal for the fam. Ah, he's waiting for me to say something."_

"The greatest," he manages to choke out.

"Good for you. For a second there I thought you were going to say Brittany."

"_I'm dead. So dead. He definitely knows and he wants me to confirm his suspicions. How do I lie? I forget. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. Here it comes."_

Sam's flabbergasted, "What… what do you mean, sir?"

"My daughter isn't too keen on sharing. She gets jealous easily, which I'm sure you noticed. When Brittany dated that wheelchair fellow, Santana got so frustrated one day she punch a hole in the wall. She missed her best friend so much that sometimes I'd hear her crying at night."

Sam can't help but be relieved when he hears Dr. Lopez admit this. He still thinks Brittany and Santana are strictly platonic. Why wouldn't he?

"Oh.," is all Sam can manage.

"Anyway, the reason I called you in here is to discuss the little mishap Friday night."

"_Shit. Damn it. Fudge."_

"Um..."

"Relax, you did everything right in my book. I just wanted to thank you for not drinking and driving and to give you your paycheck. When I spoke to my buddy on the force, he said that you had it under control and your passengers were in good hands."

Sam shakes the man's hand. He never thought about what it must mean to be a parent, but supposes he's glad he didn't drink either. Dr. Lopez's honesty strikes him the most. Unlike Adriana, his concern for his daughter is genuine. Sam is shaken from his thoughts when the doorbell rings. The doctor makes his way downstairs and Sam glances at his check only to do a double take. His hundred dollars a week is now three hundred.

An appreciative Sam heads to the dining room for this meal he's dreaded all day, but suddenly it doesn't seem like it will be so bad.


	8. Chapter 8

Chaos. Utter chaos. It's the only word Sam can use to describe dinner.

It all starts when he makes his way into the kitchen and Santana lunges at him with a knife. Her explanation is something along the lines of, "Thought you were my mom."

Brittany, on the other hand, shoots him an apologetic look, but she has her own problem at the moment. Gum is stuck in her hair- along with a fork.

"Oh Brit-Brit," Santana murmurs while stroking the girl's blonde mane, taking care to avoid the fork, "why didn't you just use peanut butter?"

"Ariel does this all the time in _The Little Mermaid_. It should work," Brittany pouts.

"How did you get gum in there anyway?" Sam inquires.

"Don't you have some burglar traps to set, Kevin McCallister? No seriously, if you pretend to scream and put your hands on your face, you're a dead ringer for him. The resemblance is frightening. I got it, okay? Go seduce my mother or something while I take care of this," Santana snaps.

He wants to ask why it matters if her mom knows or not, but knows better than to question it. Sam hightails it into the dining room where her parents are waiting. They're startled by his abrupt appearance. He knows he has to stall, but no words are coming out of his mouth. If anything does come out, it might be vomit so he chooses to keep quiet.

"There you are, Sam. Come, have a seat on the end here. The girls might throw a fit if they can't sit next to each other. Separation anxiety, you know. Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed," Dr. Lopez asks.

Adriana eyes Sam suspiciously, "Where are the girls anyway? They should be down here by now. They finally stopped playing that dreadful music once I knocked on the door. My headache still hasn't gone away."

"Uh," Sam sputters, "Brittany got distracted and I had to chase her?"

His answer seems to pacify both of them for the moment and when Santana emerges from the kitchen followed by a greasy-haired Brittany, Sam lets out a sigh of relief. A thin layer of sweat formed on his forehead and he tries to subtly wipe it off.

"Are you kissing your own armpit?" Brittany asks, "Because that makes me really horn-"

Thankfully Dr. Lopez interrupts her, "Sam, mind saying the blessing?"

He can't refuse, but he still can't seem to find his voice, either.

"Hey God," he chokes out, "Please bless this food and the hands that prepared it- the Chinese ones. Thank you for being God and for all the lessons you teach us about life and love. Your book is _way_ better than movies. Also, I want to thank you for everyone here at this table, especially Santana who is really great friend. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Lima, I will fear no evil excluding Ms. Sylvester. Amen."

"That was very nice, Sam. Thank you," Adriana says before addressing Santana, "So dear, how was your little outing today?"

Santana blushes at her mother's choice of words, but neither of her parents notice.

"It's not really my style. I took a thirty minute shower just to get the golf course smell out of my hair. Other than that, I had fun. Dad let me drive the golf cart around while he drank a few beers. I caught some air when I took it over this one hill; he spilled Corona all over his lap."

"And you wonder why your license was taken away," Adriana replies dryly.

"Come on, Tana, we both know you drank more than me," Dr. Lopez jokes. It's as if he can sense an argument on the horizon, but even after years of experience he still manages to say the wrong thing. Every. Single. Time.

"You _let_ her drink and drive? Did you _forget _what happened in Florida? There was a warrant out for her arrest for that exact thing! And when we got back, everyone at work already knew because she posted it as her Bookface status!"

Sam's jaw drops, but Santana never goes down without a fight.

"Oh boo freaking hoo, Mother. This ain't the Real Housewives of Allen County. Nobody gives a damn about that. Dad's lawyer took care of it. Besides, I wasn't drunk that night. I was high."

Sam looks around the table. Dr. Lopez has his fingers in his ears, pretending like he didn't just hear Santana's confession. Adriana is absolutely stunned and Brittany's eyes are glued to her plate. Then Sam starts to laugh like he's never laughed before. He's not even sure why. Soon enough, Brittany joins in and even Santana giggles. Dr. Lopez miserably fails to stifle his laughter. Reluctantly, Adriana smiles. All tension goes out the window.

Dr. Lopez changes the subject by talking about work.

"So she's deaf in one ear now all because that guy rammed his penis into the side of her head?" Sam questions in disbelief.

"That's definitely the best story you've told in a while. Tell one about brains next!" Brittany squeals in delight.

"I really don't know why you encourage this, Roberto," Adriana huffs, "The novelty still hasn't worn off after all these years. I think Sam will agree with me when I say no more hospital tales, dear."

"Yeah, I'd rather hear embarrassing moments from Santana's childhood instead," Sam agrees.

Adriana lights up at the mention, "You know, I wanted to name her Jennifer instead, but her father wouldn't let me."

"I never would've lived that one down, Mom. Jennifer Lopez, really? Really?"

"Besides, _Brittany and Jennifer: best friends forever_ doesn't have the same ring," Brittany chimes in.

"Why don't you ask Sam about his childhood instead?" Santana fumes, "He was probably a champion at bobbing for apples or perhaps his lips got stuck in a vacuum cleaner. I can imagine his favorite game was _Chubby Bunny_. Maybe he holds the camp record for the number of marshmallows he can fit in his mouth."

"I was born and raised in Tennessee," Sam offers, "I moved here with my family at the start of the year."

"That's nice, dear," Adriana responds, but Sam can tell she's not listening. She's texting under the table.

He continues, "I think I'll probably go to college in-state. Study business or something, then I'll move to Pandora and speak Na'vi for the rest of my life, but not before I meet up with Optimus Prime and Yoda for drinks at Moe's Tavern. I might take your daughter with me if she still hasn't gotten her driver's license back. She can help me look for Unobtainium since the Force is strong with her. Brittany can come too, since we need an expert on wildlife. Polygamy is totally acceptable in their culture so that's definitely an option. There are no breadsticks on Pandora, however, so I'd hire somebody to bring crates of them from Earth. I hear Harry, Ron, and Hermione already have a place up there so maybe we'll be neighbors."

She's still not paying attention.

Santana, however, is ready to lay down the law, "Listen Avatard, I have my own ambitions. I refuse to follow in my mother's footsteps because she went to college to get her MRS. She snagged my dad right when he got out of med school. I am going to be the world's most kickass motivational speaker. My first seminar is called _Santana's Twelve Step Program for Curing Vest Addictions_. Dad, you're invited. Mr. Schue already has a front row seat, even though he's not aware yet. Other possible topics include: _The Art of Razorblading and How to Remove Them from Weaves, Distinguishing People from Furniture, I Can Voodoo and So Can You, _and_ Stop the Violence Or I'll Beat Your Ass._"

"I don't want to have little blue babies, so I'm also going to pass, Sam. I wouldn't want them to be mistaken for Smurfs. Besides, I got probed once and I'm not really into aliens like I used to be. Not to mention, cats are sworn enemies of Pandorans. Sorry," Brittany says.

Dr. Lopez simply sits back and watches the three teens. Sam somehow managed to integrate himself into the Terrible Twosome. When it's time to leave, Sam thanks Dr. and Mrs. Lopez for the lovely evening before saying goodbye to Santana.

"So that's your family huh?"

"Yep," Santana replies, "My mom's _quite_ the charmer. Dad is just Dad. He's the best."

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you? For you know, admitting you smoke."

"Daddy already took my t-bird away, but I'm still having fun, fun, fun. He won't punish me. Besides we live by the rule that if you ignore something long enough, it'll go away. The same is true about my shoplifting, my dad's online poker addiction, and my mom's cheating. We're pretty fucked up."

Well, those are some new developments. Damn. But he's confident she will tell him all about it when she's ready.

"Look on the bright side," Sam shrugs, "if you tell them about your true feelings then maybe they'll accept it like they do all those other things."

"Yeah, except I didn't say accept. I said ignore. And that's something my mother won't let slide. Hypothetically, I'll be just as homeless as you if she has her say in the matter."

"You always have somewhere you can go, Santana. I had a really great time tonight."

"Strangely, I'm glad you came. To be honest, I didn't think you were going to. I heard you called around asking everybody. Hey no shame, it's funny. But if you thought this was nuts, just wait until we play trivia with the Pierces."

"I look forward to it."

Then the oddest thing happens. Santana hugs him.


	9. Chapter 9

_"No, I totally believe you."_

She doesn't. There's no way she bought his story about spending time with his family.

_"Family comes first."_

What is that tone in her voice? Sarcasm? A hint of anger? Guilt, perhaps?

_"I'll just have Brittany do your job for you. It's not a big deal."_

Damn right it's not a big deal. Sam hasn't taken Mercedes out in a while. So what if he had to lie and say his family was taking a trip to the zoo? So what if Santana had somewhere _she_ wanted to go?

"Oh and Sam, have fun on your date tonight. Just remember: you can run, but you can't hide."

* * *

><p>"She said that?" Mercedes skeptically asks, "How'd she figure out you're going on a date?"<p>

"She has a sixth sense about these things. But I don't think she knew for sure until I let it slip what time we were leaving for the zoo. Apparently she has all the hours of operation memorized or she looked it up. She even knew weekend and holiday closing times. She could tell I was bluffing. So I was thinking maybe we could go to dinner and a movie?"

Mercedes smiles. Being with her is a breath of fresh air for Sam. On paper, they're exact opposites. In life, they have more in common than either of them expected. She likes his nerdy jokes and doesn't mind watching Sci-Fi movies and he admires her passion for music. Dinner at Breadstix goes great with only a slight hiccup- a text from Santana that puts him in a foul mood.

**Come out come out  
><strong>**wherever you are  
><strong>**7:56 PM Tue Jun 7  
><strong>**From: Santana L**

That's actually her job. He's tempted to tell her so.

Thankfully Mercedes snaps him out of it. There's no way he's going to let Santana Lopez ruin his date. Not tonight. Sam pays for their dinner and leads Mercedes out to the car where there's a scrap of paper stuck under the windshield. Sam entertains the thought that it might be a note from Santana so he snatches it up. In a stroke of luck, it's a coupon for BreadstiX. But that doesn't mean Santana's not lurking somewhere. Sam scans the parking lot looking for Brittany's car. The former cheerleaders are nowhere to be seen. Sam opens the door for Mercedes and drives off to the movie theatre.

* * *

><p>"Tickets are kind of expensive. Maybe we should each buy one?" Mercedes inquires.<p>

Sam isn't fazed, "No, trust me. I got this. You want some popcorn, too?"

Mercedes is about to respond when Sam's phone buzzes.

**Looks like we just missed  
><strong>**you and your mystery  
><strong>**date at the stix. One way  
>or another, I'm gonna<br>find you. B says hi.  
><strong>**8:14 PM Tue Jun 7  
><strong>**From: Santana L**

"Girl's crazy," Mercedes laughs, "But it looks like she really cares about you if she's traipsing around Lima trying to find us."

At least Mercedes isn't the type to get upset about something like this.

"Crazy is right! She's not what I expected at all. I guess it is kind of sweet in a weird, possessive way."

**Just save yourself the  
><strong>**trouble and tell me.  
><strong>**I'll just turn on the  
><strong>**homing device in my  
><strong>**car if you don't.  
><strong>**8:17 PM Tue Jun 7  
><strong>**From: Santana L**

He refuses to respond.

"Sam, you are the nicest guy I know, but if she texts you throughout the whole movie, I will fight her."

Sam sighs. Santana's not going to be content until she figures out who his date is. And Mercedes won't be happy if that happens. And Brittany… Brittany probably doesn't care either way. Girls. Can't live with em, can't prevent 'em from fighting. The previews are just about to start when he gets the next text message.

**Not at the blowing  
><strong>**alley, I see ;)  
>8:29 PM Tue Jun 7<br>****From: Santana L**

Oh God. This girl is too much. Sam didn't even think of bowling. Maybe that will be his next date with Mercedes. That is, if she forgives him for Santana's antics.

One preview goes by, then another without a response. Soon, the movie starts and Sam hasn't felt his phone go off again. He takes this as a good sign and relaxes into his seat and slides an arm around Mercedes. The theatre isn't too crowded, but a man chooses to sit next to Sam as well. At least Sam doesn't have to worry about Santana and Brittany picking those seats should they find them.

Sam is so absorbed in the movie he doesn't notice two shadowy figures slip in halfway through. He doesn't notice their linked pinkies or that they sit two rows directly behind him and Mercedes. He doesn't notice anything but the pirates dashing across the screen and his arm still around his girl. He especially doesn't notice the giant bowl of popcorn or the Dots either, until he's being pelted by both. A piece of popcorn is stuck in Mercedes' weave and Sam gently tugs it out before tossing it on the ground. He turns around to look at the perpetrators, but can't see in the dim lighting. He has his suspicions, however.

* * *

><p>When the credits roll and the lights come up, several moans are heard from behind Sam and Mercedes. Santana still can't tell exactly who Sam's date is, so she tries to drag Brittany down to their level. Unfortunately for her, Brittany is occupied with her Dots.<p>

It isn't until Sam and Mercedes stand up that Santana shrieks, "Oh my God!"

"Run," Sam whispers, but it's too late. Santana's blocking their exit, tapping her foot impatiently with her arms crossed.

Mercedes grimaces, "Time to face the music, whether or not we like it."

"You can always deny it, if you'd like," Sam responds.

"Why would I do that?" Mercedes answers with a small smile, taking Sam's hand into hers.

"So does anybody want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Santana muses.

If Santana can trust him with her secrets, then he can trust her with his.

He shrugs, "We're dating."

Santana opens her mouth to speak, but Mercedes beats her to it by adding, "If you have a problem with it, then you're not really our friend."

"I wasn't going to say that," Santana murmurs, "I had my suspicions, but I'd be a hypocrite if I said you shouldn't be with someone who makes you happy."

Brittany chooses that moment to wrap her arm around Santana's waist and Sam and Mercedes glance at each other. Sam's somewhat relieved that Santana knows. She's a huge part of his life now.

* * *

><p>The four of them are eating ice cream when Mercedes asks how Santana and Brittany figured out where they were.<p>

"Please," Santana scoffs, "there are only like four date hot spots in Lima: the mall, the movies, the bowling alley, and my personal favorite, Breadstix. We knew you were a tricky trickster when your brother started talking to us on the walkie-talkie. He had no idea about the zoo bullshit you fed me."

Brittany continues, "Breadstix is super delicious so we went there first. Santana practically knows everyone that works there and she showed them a picture of you, Sam. You know the one where you look really trouty. They said you left not too long before we got there."

Santana sighs, "From there, it was all too easy. We did run into one roadblock though, Puckerman. He and Lauren were at the bowling alley when we got there and they tried to rope us into buying them pizza. I'm all for saving the whales and whatnot, but asking me to feed one is about as likely as Kurt shopping at Walmart."

Mercedes rolls her eyes while Sam shrugs.

"After that, we drove around a while until we saw Santana's car in the movie theatre parking lot. We weren't sure what movie to look in, but I narrowed it down to _X-Men_ or the new _Pirates_ movie," Brittany concludes.

Mercedes is impressed, "Wow, you two are quite the sleuths."

"I played a lot of _Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego _on my dad's old computer when I was growing up," Brittany replies.

"I'm a crafty bitch with infallible intuition," Santana offers.

Shortly after, Santana and Brittany scatter, leaving Sam and Mercedes alone again.

"I'm so sorry, Mercedes," Sam apologizes, "I had no idea they were really going to crash our date."

"Hey, it's alright Sam. They're not so bad outside of school, I suppose. I had a really great time regardless."

"Good. They certainly make things a lot more interesting. Stressful, too. Anyway, let me take you home. It's getting late and I don't want your dad to give me that evil glare again."

When Sam gets back to the motel from dropping Mercedes off, there's a new text waiting for him.

**Secrets secrets are  
><strong>**no fun unless you  
><strong>**tell everyone  
><strong>**11:59 PM Tue Jun 7  
><strong>**From: Santana L**

He knows she's teasing, but he wants to make sure.

**You wouldn't  
><strong>**12:01 AM Wed Jun 8  
><strong>**To: Santana L**

A wave of relief washes over him when she texts back.

**No, I won't. But  
><strong>**dinner and a movie?  
><strong>**So uncreative. No  
><strong>**wonder we found  
><strong>**you. If you only had  
><strong>**a brain…  
><strong>**12:02 AM Wed Jun 8  
>From: Santana L<strong>

Sam chuckles.

**If you only had a  
><strong>**heart…  
><strong>**12:06 AM Wed Jun 8  
><strong>**To: Santana L**

There. Take that, Santana.

**Nope. Brittany stole  
><strong>**mine.  
><strong>**12:09 AM Wed Jun 8  
><strong>**From: Santana L**

That's too adorable for words. Sam dreams of whales and pirates and dancing popcorn kernels that night and ponders just how great he has it.

* * *

><p><strong>I can't quite make up my mind for the next chapter. It's a toss up between Trivia Night with the Pierces or Adventures in Babysitting with a few familiar faces.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for all the feedback, guys! I decided to go another direction this chapter. It was stuck in my head so **_**please**_** don't hate me. Ha. Trivia night with the Pierces is next and then babysitting. But for now our troublesome trio is taking a field trip to… school? Slight angst, but that's Santana for you.**

* * *

><p>It's one of those rare moments where Sam's alone with Santana and he doesn't feel intimidated. He breaks the ice with, "Can I ask you a question?"<p>

Santana sneers while filing her nails, "Is that the question?"

"No," he continues, "What you said the other night about your mom cheating on your dad… Never mind, it's none of my business. Forget I said anything."

"No, it's alright. I mean, it's not alright because it's true. It's okay that you asked though. She's sleeping with her personal trainer. His name is Sven something or other. It's ridiculous. To be honest, she'd hump our trash can if it had a penis."

"And your dad…?"

"Would be heartbroken if he knew. But I can't tell him. Every time I try, I just can't."

"I am so sorry, Santana."

"That's not even the worst part. My nanny, Martha, knows. Why do you think a seventeen year old still has a nanny? She's blackmailing my mom. Martha was my abuela's nurse for the longest time and after my grandparents died, she needed a way to keep her cushy job. She followed my mom to a motel one evening after I fell asleep and confronted her. Gave her an ultimatum."

"What will they do when you leave for college?"

"That I don't know. Guess Mommy Dearest will be shit out of luck. At least I won't be around for the inevitable divorce. It's funny. I grew up thinking that my nanny loved me more than my mom ever did. Turns out neither one of them love me. One day I stumbled upon the truth and I was so _angry_. I went to Lima Fitness Center, took some free weights, and threw them through windows, into mirrors; I even threw one at a guy. Then I took off. Brittany found me hiding behind a dumpster. Patches was barking at me so Brit flicked him on the nose and called him a bad dog."

"So she looks out for you just as much as you look out for her."

"Yeah. That's not even the half of it. Do you know Brittany's almost died? More than once, in fact."

Sam's not sure how much more he can take. This Santana looks so little and broken. He's reminded of the time they visited the graveyard. She appeared meek then, too.

"Please tell me you're not serious," he begs, desperate to know for sure.

"She doesn't see the harm in anything. It's what makes her so Brittany, but at the same time it scares the hell out of me. I wish she saw the danger. One time she wanted to curl her hair in the bathtub. Another time she almost let Sue shoot her out of a cannon. Once, she just about overdosed. Last summer she got trapped down in the sewers."

"I… I never would've known… Santana, don't cry. Please don't cry. It's going to be alright. I promise."

"No it won't because if I lose her, I lose everything. All that time we spent fighting is time we could've been together. And what if something had happened to her while I was playing Miss Straight Teen Ohio? I'd never forgive myself, Sam. I love her. I love her, but I let all my fears and insecurities come between us. I try to be honest with people when they have these flaws that I just can't overlook, but I couldn't even tell my best friend the truth for the longest time because she's perfect. And she's the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. She makes me want to be her idea of romance, but I can't get over the fact that people will hate me for it. They hate me for loving her and I don't know them and they don't know us."

The last thing he wants is to see her cry. His heart hurts when he watches her pour out her emotions when he knows that there is something she can do to make it better. That's when he gets a brilliant idea.

"Santana?" he asks, "How about we go on a little road trip?"

She sniffles, "Fine. But only if you buy me cheese fries at the gas station."

"Gross. Only if you promise not to throw them at me."

* * *

><p>"Brittany's house? That's where we're going?"<p>

"Relax, Tana, we're just here to pick her up."

"Nobody calls me Tana without express written consent, Fish."

* * *

><p>"Sam and Mercedes sitting in a tree. F-U-C-K-I-N-G," Santana taunts.<p>

Then Brittany chimes in, "First comes sex, then comes love, then comes two turtledoves and a partridge in a pear tree."

Sam laughs at the last one. When Brittany switches from the old nursery rhyme to a Christmas carol, it's so bizarre and unexpected that he can't help but be amused. No one is more thrilled than Santana, however.

"Good one, Brit-Brit!" she exclaims.

They're cruising down the highway. Sam's got the route memorized by heart from his pizza delivering days and he's singing along to all that angry-girl chick-rock that he despises so much, but Santana insists they listen to. Not surprisingly, he knows all the words by now.

"Westerville? What the fuck is in Westerville?" Santana exclaims.

"Dalton Academy," Sam replies, "and we're going to take a little tour."

Brittany squeals with joy, "I always wanted to know what school's like during the summer! Contrary to popular belief, I've never been to summer school."

"And I kicked anybody in the balls who tried to spread that rumor," Santana adds, "But why couldn't we just break into McKinley and toilet paper it like normal rising seniors?"

"I went to an all-boys boarding school back in Tennessee. When I moved here, I felt like an outsider because I didn't know how to flirt with girls or even be friends with them, but I had to learn. And accepting yourself is something you'll have to figure out too, Santana. So you're going to walk a mile in Kurt's shoes."

"Kurt has great shoes, Santana, so you have nothing to worry about," Brittany adds.

"You really think this is a good idea, Brit-Brit?" Santana whispers.

"I really do," Brittany answers, "But if you get nervous you can hold my hand. Things aren't always what they seem. Plus, you didn't have any trouble making out with me at that party."

Sam catches Santana's eye in the rearview mirror. She's smiling, but visibly anxious.

"West Valley here we come!" Brittany exclaims, "Crawford Country Day- sounds like that preschool my parents took me to where I made fairy houses out of mud."

* * *

><p>"Where's Dumbledore buried?" Brittany asks, but the tour guide ignores her.<p>

"…And this is the library. Construction started on it in the late 1940s, but it wasn't finished until the early 50s when-"

"This blows," Santana mutters to Sam, "how the hell is this anything like Kurt's experience here?"

"How was I supposed to know they'd make this old dinosaur show us around?" he whispers back, "Dude's older than my grandpa."

"Hey guys! What are we whispering about?" Brittany asks eagerly.

"I say we ditch this geezer and find our own way around. On the count of three, we run. One, two…"

On two, both Santana and Brittany run off, pinkies linked. Sam glances at their bewildered guide before shouting, "Look! A distraction!" and taking off after the girls.

After all three of them are a safe distance away, Santana stops. They're trying to catch their breath when a student walks by.

"Can I help you with something?" he asks.

"Yeah," Sam replies, "My name's Peter… Parker. Peter Parker. And this blonde girl here is Mary Jane. And this is our other good friend, Doctor Octopus. But she prefers Pussy. So you can definitely call her that."

Santana punches him in the arm, but doesn't object. The boy eyes them suspiciously.

"That's cool I guess," he says skeptically, "I'm Thad. You three look really familiar for some reason."

"Do you have Cheerios here in Westertonfield too?" Brittany inquires.

"You want breakfast?" Thad scratches head.

"Our friend Kurt went here," Santana provides, "He was in your choir."

"Yeah I know Kurt! I'm in the Warblers too. New Directions, right? What are you guys doing here?"

"The question is: what are you doing here?" Brittany counters.

"I go here. I have to retake chemistry. Anyway, Kurt always talked about you guys. I don't think he ever mentioned a Peter or a Mary Jane, though. And I would've remembered a Pussy."

"I bet you would," Santana smirks.

Sam glares at Santana, "So Thad, what's it like here? I mean, when you met Kurt for the first time, what did you think?"

"He was nice. It seemed to me like he had a crush on Blaine from the start, but maybe not."

"Does it bother you that they're…" Santana starts.

"Gay?" Thad asks.

"No… Well, yes. But what I was trying to say was _together_."

"We have this zero-tolerance policy on bullying. But no one cared. Can I ask you a question?"

Santana sighs, "I hate that fucking question."

"What are you doing Friday, Doc?"

Brittany slaps Thad and they scatter once more.

* * *

><p>"Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong! West Virginiaaaa, mountain mamaaaa. Take me home, country roads!" Brittany sings as they make their way back to Lima.<p>

So maybe it didn't work out exactly like Sam hoped it would, but at least he didn't have any cheese fries thrown at him. Sam glances in the rearview mirror once more and sees Brittany curled up next to Santana. They're both smiling. Although it's going to take a lot more than one pit stop at Dalton to get Santana out of the closet, Sam knows it's a step in the right direction.


	11. Chapter 11

"And according to the quiz, Sam, you are lace panties, Britt's a g-string, and I get the honor of being that chick that goes commando."

"Wait. There's no way I got lacy panties. I'm boxer briefs all the way! My answers should totally reflect that."

"Maybe I changed some of your answers, _Samantha_."

"These quizzes are so dumb anyway. I mean, _What Kind of Underwear Are You?_ How does that describe your personality?"

"It says here that lacy panties are either super whipped, super gay, or both."

"That just described you, Santana! This is bullshit."

"Eh, it is what it is. Now get them panties on, it's Trivia Night at Breadstix and we gotta stop by the Pierces' house first."

* * *

><p>Mrs. Pierce might be the nicest lady ever. She's got a plate full of chocolate chip cookies just waiting for them when they get there. Brittany greets her mom and Santana makes a beeline for Brit's little sister, Bailey, scooping her up into a hug. Sam just stands around for a minute taking in his surroundings until Mrs. Pierce introduces herself.<p>

"And you must be Sam. I've heard so many nice things about you from Brittany. I must say, your lips don't look nearly as big as Santana described them though."

"Thanks, Mrs. Pierce," he replies unsurely.

"Oh heavens, just call me Paige. My husband, Hector, should be home from work anytime now. You know, there was a time this year when Brittany and Santana weren't getting along too well and I was wondering if you knew anything about that. I just figured they both had a crush on you, but Brittany insists that's not the case."

"Mom!" Brittany squeals.

"We can always chat later, Sam," Paige whispers as she pats him on the shoulder, "Brittany usually tells me everything, but for the life of me, I can't figure why they had a falling out. They've always been inseparable. It's the cutest thing. I have tons of pictures of the two of them, if you'd like to see."

"Quit embarrassing the girls, sweetheart," says Mr. Pierce who walks in the door at that moment, "There's plenty of time for that at… _Trivia_!"

"So Santana, what's Noah up to these days?" Mr. Pierce asks once everyone is safely buckled in the Pierces' minivan.

Her casual reply is, "Probably trying to suck his own D-I-C-K."

Sam winces. At least this time she has the decency to spell it out. Bailey thankfully doesn't hear.

"Cousin Randy was going to come," Brittany tells Sam, "But I misplaced his bike and my uncle was too busy feeding the goats to give him a ride."

* * *

><p>"Two to five people per team. No exceptions."<p>

Asshole.

"She's eight!" Santana gestures towards Bailey, "How much useless knowledge do you think she has?"

The Pierces, however, don't argue. Sam doesn't either. Santana is the only one outraged by this injustice, apparently.

"No exceptions. Two to five people per team. That's the rule. Now there are six of you so I'd suggest splitting up into two teams. Or three. I don't really care. But two to five people per team. Two to fi-"

"Yeah we get it," Santana snaps, "I've had people fired here before. I can do it again."

"I don't work for Breadstix, honey. I work for the company that sponsors trivia."

"Honey? What's your name? I'll get you fired, too."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Saline-a Gomez?" says an oddly familiar voice, "Striking fear in the heart of your opponent isn't enough. You have to crush their spirit, too."

"Coach Sylvester?" Brittany scratches her head.

Sue nods and acknowledges them, "Brittany. Top Heavy. You. Other blondes I vaguely recognize."

"You like trivia?" Brittany asks.

"Why yes, I do. Usually I only care if the questions are about me, but I made an exception considering I have my eyes on this week's prize. Seeing how Becky made plans with her mom tonight, it looks like I need a team of young, fresh-minded idiots to compete with me."

"Fine," Santana blurts out before they have a chance to discuss it, "You can be with me, Brit, and Sam. We split the winnings evenly."

"Titillating, but don't think this means I like any of you. I especially don't like you, S. All that potential is gone to waste."

Sam can see Santana's balled up fists and he knows she's ready to lash out, but Brittany's already whispering soothing words in her ear.

"You don't owe her anything," Brittany murmurs as she runs her fingers through Santana's hair, "There's nothing to prove."

"I know that, Britts," Santana fires back as she wrenches herself from Brittany's embrace, "I just want to win. All I've ever wanted is to win."

Brittany looks at the ground, blinking away a tear that threatens to fall. Sam curses Santana's stupidity.

* * *

><p>Despite Santana's refusal to talk, trivia is actually going quite well. Well, kind of. They know some answers to some questions. So far, so good.<p>

"Don't touch that breadstick," Sue warns, "Oh wait, get as fat as you like. I'm not your coach _anymore_. Lopez, when I pillage and plunder your village in Mexico, think about this: You could've been a contender."

Just like that, Santana's self-imposed silence is broken.

"I'm not Mexican!" she growls.

Sue glares, "Weebles wobble, but they still have FAKE BOOBS."

"What does that even mean?" Santana shouts.

"It means you can take the girl out of Mexico, but you can't take Mexico out of the girl."

Correction: it's going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>The rest of the night goes a little something like this:<p>

"The answer is Sue-weden."

"The chambered nautilus."

"The Battle of Bunker Hill? Nope? Okay."

"Its natural habitat is in the subtropical or tropical lowland forests of China, India, Myanmar, and Bhutan. They've also been spotted in Nepal and Vietnam. Duh. That one was easy. Learned that when I was on the Brainiacs."

"Could your hair look any more stupid? Are you aware that I might hate your hair more than I hate Will Schuester's? That's saying something. Why have Bieber fever when you can have the Sue Blues? You know what that is? It's when you're depressed because you're not me."

"Rheumatoid arthritis."

"Eurasianism? That sounds made up."

"Is that Finn and Rachel? Brittany, stop waving, it's not them. Damn, I wish you hadn't thrown out my voodoo doll."

"Excuse me, waiter, I couldn't help but notice that Dots aren't on the menu. How's a couple Abe Lincolns sound in exchange for you getting me some?"

"If I'm not mistaken, the last horse to win the Triple Crown was _Seattle Slew_, but then again, I'm only thirty. That was probably before I was born."

"If it sounds right just put it down. We're running out of time. Crap! No, not that. Put that other thing you said down. I don't know what it was called! Just put it down. Hurry, Sam!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Okay, so we pretty much narrowed it down to the Tropic of Cancer or the Tropic of Capricorn. Which one should we choose? Is anybody listening to me?"

"How are you wearing that tracksuit in the summer?"

"Oh I know this one. It's a prairie dog. My mom says I'm so good at this because when I was younger I used to eat Trivial Pursuit cards and I absorbed all that information through osmosis. It's five times faster than reading. I think I also wanted to be like my uncle's goats. They eat everything."

"_Affirmed?_ Not _Seattle Slew? _Eh, like I said earlier, that was before my time. What do you mean 'not really'? If you weren't on my team, I'd kick you in the _Seattle Slew_."

"I get a lot of my information from Wikipedia. Well, I did before I became homeless."

"The answer's scissor doors. What? I know all things scissors."

"I don't know. Do you know? This question is really bugging me."

"When I said Lincolns, I was talking about pennies. See? That's his face right there. What did you think I meant?"

"Name as many Ohioans in the United States House of Representatives as you can. I grew up in Tennessee. This bonus round is tough."

"We got that question wrong. If it were up to me, you'd be running laps for it, you nasty circus clowns."

"We're currently in third!"

"Yes, I'll have three more baskets of breadsticks and a Screwdriver. And where are my friend's Dots? You promised them like twenty minutes ago."

"Are there ever going to be any music or cat questions?"

"Seriously, it's so hot. You should probably take your tracksuit off unless you're not wearing anything underneath it."

"_Real Women Have Curves_ by Josefina Lopez. Oh shut up! Just because we have the same last name does not mean we're related! No, Jennifer isn't my cousin either!"

"Dad, quit trying to peek at our answers! You're as bad as Lord Tubbington!"

"How dare you! I am only thirty! The senior citizen discount does _not_ apply. Speedy Gonzalez, if you help me get this jackass fired, I will buy you carbs in any shape or form, since you insist on stuffing your face now that you've joined the rest of the mouth breathers."

* * *

><p>They manage fifth place out of twelve teams. Sue is not thrilled. Sam is scared of her wrath. Brittany is chewing on Dots. Santana polishes off the last breadstick.<p>

As Sue departs, she tells them, "I am not good with goodbyes so I will leave you with these words: 'After all, tomorrow is another day.'"

"I don't think that's the right context…" Sam begins, but Sue's already walked off the her Le Car.

* * *

><p>"Oh my gosh, I just remembered!" Brittany exclaims, "I never broke up with Wes Brody!"<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Trivia was a few days ago. Sam hasn't seen or heard from Brittany, nor has Santana, or so he thinks. He's sure Brittany's still hurt from what Santana said at Breadstix. The past few days were filled with nothingness- eating takeout and sunbathing by the pool. Not that Sam's complaining, after all he gets paid whether or not the girls are speaking to each other, but Santana's been noticeably quiet. And it's not something Sam's used to. He misses the laughter Brittany brings her. So maybe he sort of goes behind Santana's back, just this once. What could it hurt?

"What do you _mean_ you texted her?" Santana snarls.

"Look, she's got this babysitting gig that her mom got her. There are three boys and that's a little much, even for Britt. She said we could come over and help her. Besides, it'd get us out of the house."

"But the house has air conditioning," she replies, "and I'd rather not see Brittany."

"I know for a fact you don't mean that, Santana. You just don't want to face her after what you said even though you didn't mean it. Saying you care more about winning than you do about her is bullshit."

Santana sighs, "There's nothing good on HBO. Grab your keys."

Sam grins and swipes his keys and wallet off the kitchen counter. He meets her at the car and she's got a mischievous smile on her lips. Sam doesn't give it a second thought and hops on in, and cranks the air up.

"Thank God the windows are tinted," Santana comments before adding, "Can you take the long way?"

"What do you mean- what the hell, Santana? You're smoking weed in the car?"

"The only way I'm doing this if I'm completely relaxed. Brit won't mind and the kids will be none the wiser."

Sam's a little lightheaded when they pull up to the correct house. Santana is high- her colorful insults swapped with uncharacteristically girly giggles and a craving for Oreos with pepperoni filling. She even lets him pick the radio station- well, for a minute before they get out of the car.

Sam grabs her hand before they ring the doorbell, "You're not going to run off into a bedroom with Brittany to have make up sex and leave me to watch these kids all by myself are you?"

"That was the plan," High Santana admits dryly, "But you know most of my tricks by now. It's a damn shame, too. We should really take our show on the road. I'd be the fucktastic magician of Lebanon and you'd be my pretty, dimwitted assistant. It's perfect."

"Except the only magic trick you know is how to make your hand disappear down people's pants," he fires back.

"There was a time when you weren't complaining," she remarks.

A loud crash is heard coming from inside the house. A disheveled looking Brittany opens the door seconds later.

"Sorry," Brittany blushes, "the triplets think it's funny to knock me over."

"Triplets?" Sam and Santana respond in unison.

* * *

><p>These gingers are devils. Sam thinks he spots a forked tongue or two while the miscreants are shoving dinner down their throats. They seem to like Brittany in comparison to the other teens, but they still trip her and even convince her to eat a ham and peanut butter sandwich with olives on top. She claims to like it. Santana's high wears off and so does her good mood. She just stares at Brittany from across the living room and doesn't even notice when a kid spills grape juice on her white tank top.<p>

Sam can't take much more; it took him forever to untie himself during a rather spirited game of Cops and Robbers and he isn't sure why Santana even agreed in the first place. Oh wait, she tied him up. She wanted to tie everyone up, but Brittany wouldn't let her.

"When did you say the parents would be home?" Sam asks Brittany.

"Around eleven, I think. Ms. Kendra didn't say I could have people over though so you might have to leave before then," she replies.

"But she didn't say you couldn't have people over either, did she?" Santana mutters.

"How about we watch a movie and then bedtime?" Sam suggests. It's not the worst idea yet. And at least a movie will make them sit still… or at least stiller. The girls shrug and the triplets about kill each other over which movie to watch, but it seems like the right choice.

Until Brittany feeds the children ice cream. Sam motions for the girls to follow him into the kitchen.

"Sam, I had no idea you were in charge," Santana deadpans, "Are you calling this meeting of the Babysitters Club to order? Because I think I have a gavel somewhere in my purse. Although if I had thought of that earlier, I would've played Whack-A-Mole with those little monsters."

Brittany's lip quivers at the thought of moles being whacked.

Sam glares at Santana before speaking, "Now that they're all hopped up on sugar, they're never going to go to bed."

"So what?" Santana replies, "Just wait until eleven when the parents come home and let them deal with it."

"They're supposed to be in bed by nine," Brittany comments.

"Well excuse me then!" Santana barks.

"Will you two just kiss and make up already?" Sam snaps, "Hey that gives me an idea."

* * *

><p><strong>Step One: Bath Time<strong>

"So then I said to Wes Brody, 'If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to take a bath.' And he did. We've been together over a year now," Brittany says just loud enough for the boys to overhear. They stop dead in their tracks.

"Wes Brody's your boyfriend?" one of them asks.

"Totally," Brittany exclaims before catching Santana's eye, "but I'd dump him any day for a redhead."

"Not so fast," Santana cuts in, "I love redheads more than you do! Plus I'm awesome. You smell like a gorilla fart."

"You eat boogers on toast!" Brittany accuses.

"What's going on?" the closest triplet asks Sam.

"Girl fight. I'd love if two women were arguing over me," Sam responds.

"But we're nine. I hate girls. They have cooties!"

"You _wish_ you were as cool as Smurfette!" Santana shoots back at Brittany.

Sam leans down to whisper in his ear, "All I'm saying is that you might not like them, but they certainly like _you_. The best way to keep these chicks from going crazy is to just do what they say. I'm speaking from personal experience, dude. One time Santana pinched me so hard, I still felt it a month later. And Brittany may seem all nice and innocent, but Wes told me that she keeps him on a tight leash. You upset them and you might as well dig your own grave."

The boy is horrified, "She puts him on a leash?"

Sam realizes the kid's a little young to recognize the figure of speech so he nods and says, "Makes him bark like a dog."

A freckled jaw drops.

"Ladies, enough with the fighting," another boy says, "There's plenty to go around."

This is too easy.

* * *

><p><strong>Step Two: Story Time<strong>

"Pajamas… check. Brushed teeth? Check. All right, looks like you three are ready for bed," Brittany states. The three boys moan.

"What about a story?" one asks.

"I'm still hungry," complains another.

"Are you going to muzzle us too?" whimpers the third.

"Once upon a time there was a toy space ranger named Brittany Lightyear who was new to Sam's room and she met Sheriff Santana-"

"We've seen Toy Story!"

"There once were three boys who each decided to make their own houses. One made his out of straw, another out of sticks and the last out of-"

"That's the three little pigs! Brittany, you suck at stories."

Santana saunters over to the bed and whispers in Brittany's ear, "I'm going to make them Auntie Tana's famous magic bedtime potion, hope I don't miss too much."

"I'll go with you," Sam volunteers.

They scramble out of the room and race down the stairs to the kitchen. Santana grabs a flask out of her purse.

"What are you doing?" Sam demands.

She shrugs, "A little whiskey will put them right to bed. My nanny used to do it to me all the time. Ugh, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Giving them alcohol is so unethical," Sam replies.

"It's only unethical if it's your own kids. If it's someone else's, it's practically a public service. Completely justifiable in my book. Okay, well I did my good deed for the day. I'm starting to think I might actually become a productive member of society."

Sam grabs her wrist before she can head back up the stairs. There's something bothering him.

"You have to apologize to her," he states simply.

"I know. If I keep acting this way, she'll probably move to another country or get a restraining order. Which means I'll have to resort to buying a really powerful telescope or wear cheesy disguises and follow her just so I can see how she's doing. Her future children won't know me from _Rachel_," she whines.

"_Your_ future children won't want to hear about all the times you were a coward," he adds gently.

"Thanks, Sam. I never thought of it like that," she says, giving him a small smile, "Now when we go back upstairs, you distract Brittany while I slip them their drinks."

They are about to enter the room when they hear:

"…And that's how Miss Holiday explained it to our glee club. No storks involved."

* * *

><p><strong>Step Three: Bed Time<strong>

Sam pulls Brittany into the hallway while Santana distributes the cups.

Brittany automatically goes into defense mode, "They made me do it! They said that one of their other sitters had a baby and they wanted to know where it came from. I wasn't going to, but then-"

"I don't really care about that. Brittany, why haven't you talked to Santana about what she said at Breadstix? You know she cares about you more than anything."

"I know that! That's why I'm not mad. She's the one who's making it a bigger deal in her mind, but she's always been like that. It was a heat of the moment thing. We all do that when we're frustrated. Granted, Santana does it more often than most. It's like what you said back at Dalton, she'll have to learn sometime. This school year was about acceptance and now this summer's about progress. She came close to telling her dad when they went golfing."

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," Sam recites.

"You play horseshoes with hand grenades? I was only half listening," she admits.

They walk back into the bedroom to see three sleeping boys and one very satisfied Santana.

"Guess that stuff really was magic," Brittany comments.

Sam frowns, "You have no idea."


	13. Chapter 13

**I won't blame you if you hate me for making you wait so long. I apologize, my dears. This update was made possible by Mountain Dew and Skittles.**

* * *

><p>Brittany lowers her cards and consults her sheet one more time. "Miss Scarlet in the lounge with the revolver," she declares.<p>

It's raining. It's been raining for days. Sam can feel how antsy both Brittany and Santana are. Santana ran out of cigars nearly a week ago and while she doesn't smoke them often, Sam's come to learn that she's at least comforted by their presence. And her dealer is nowhere to be found. Brittany, for her part, just won her third consecutive game of Clue – this time in less than five turns. Now she's lazily picking at the expensive sofa. There's a Sharpie within an arm's length and Sam wonders if she draws penises on furniture as often she draws them on his skin. The last one took some serious scrubbing to remove and it's super embarrassing having to explain to his mom why he comes back to the motel with genitalia scribbled all over his body almost every day. Santana, always Brittany's number one fan, encourages her best friend's artistic side. Sam's still not convinced Brittany will be the next Michelangelo. The next Picasso, maybe.

"There's been a mix up," Santana says as she settles down on the couch next to Brittany. She was on the phone for several minutes, swearing in her limited Spanish. Sam suspects that she may have also texted Brittany all of her clues.

"What, did you and Brittany switch concealers by mistake and now her face looks too tan and yours too pasty?" Sam jokes.

"Oh my God, that was one time! Also, not what I was referring to. My cigar guy had some spat with his roommate and now he can't borrow the car."

Sam looks up at her. "And you're telling me this because…?"

"You're taking me."

Huh. She's still demanding to be taken places instead of asking. But Sam couldn't teach this old dog a new trick if his life depended on it. Which, in all honesty, it might. He remembers how she lunged at him with a knife when she mistook him for her mother.

"Where exactly are we meeting this dude?" Sam asks.

"At his place," she replies cryptically. No duh – he'd already figured out that one on his own.

"Where might that be?" he questions. Hopefully it's no farther than just across town. There's a Lord of the Rings marathon starting in an hour or so.

"Fort Wayne."

Fort Wayne… why does that sound so familiar? Then something clicks. Fort Wayne. That's where Aural Intensity's from. That's… in Indiana. Suddenly he's not so sure he wants to go and Santana clearly anticipates this.

"Come _on_," she says. "It's only an hour and twenty away. We'll be back before you know it."

"_You_ come on," he argues. "_I_ drove you to six different gas stations yesterday when you wanted a churro."

And damn – Santana's nothing if not persuasive.

"Look," she begins and Sam already knows he's lost this battle, "I need this. These aren't just any cigars. These are the same kind my grandfather used to smoke and I haven't been able to find any around here. Believe me, I've looked. Sure, I could buy some cheap ass imitations, but what would my_ abuelo_ say? '_Oh Santana, go ahead and take shortcuts in life because I know how difficult it is to find quality tobacco._' No! He'd roll over in his grave."

And since he can never say no to any girl in her time of need – even ones who pour Kool Aid on his white shorts and tell everyone he's on his period – he agrees. On one condition. "If Brittany sits behind me, can you tell her to quit kicking my seat?"

Santana, who doesn't bother to look up from filing her nails, scoffs. "Tell her yourself."

"Well, I would, but ever since you two made up I can't get a word in edgewise. It's all, _you're way cute, Brittany. No, you are, Tana! Let's make out._ Barf."

"It's not cheating if I stick my boot up your ass."

Sam clears his throat. "Let's hit the road, shall we?"

"That's what I thought."

* * *

><p>Summer's drawing to a close and he still isn't allowed to deejay. Santana's "Slut Mix" – a collection of Katy Perry, Rihanna, Ke$ha songs – is blasting his eardrums out. Not to mention he can hardly concentrate on the road with all of the raucous laughter from his two backseat drivers. As much as he loves them, he needs a break and they've only been in the car about thirty minutes. It's barely drizzling when he pulls off the exit and into an otherwise empty parking lot.<p>

The girls don't ask him why he's stopped or why he's getting out of the car. They don't care. They're making out. The physical intimacy between them doesn't gross him out per say, but he's not exactly sure when barely holding hands in public morphed into groping each other strictly in front of him. _Progress_, Brittany had said. _This summer's about progress_.

Well, things have certainly progressed, even if he's their only – albeit reluctant – witness.

"Aw, look Britt-Britt. It's a Fish out of water," Santana taunts as he slides back into the driver's seat. "I don't have all day, you know. Some of us are on a very tight schedule."

"Yeah! Lord Tubbington needs his nougat and sprinkles ASAP," Brittany chimes in.

"Hand check first," Sam says. Both of Brittany's shoot straight in the air. Santana's - one wedged between the seat and Brittany's butt and the other decidedly under Brittany's shirt - remain where they are. Sam sighs. "Santana."

"Sorry, _Dad_," she complains, grumpy that her alone time with Brittany was interrupted. "But this is my car. My car, my rules. Remember? And for another thing, my windows be tinted. Meaning that I am free to express myself any which way I choose. And I am expressing my desire to grab some ass."

Brittany laughs. "And tit."

"Just don't look in the rearview mirror, Fish," Santana adds with an evil smirk.

* * *

><p>The trip is surprisingly uneventful. They get the goods and go. What happens when Sam gets home is the real shocker. His family, oddly enough, is celebrating something in their tiny motel room. Stacy and Stevie are jumping from bed to bed and his mom is crying tears of joy.<p>

"Dad – what's going on?"

His father turns to look at him. It's the happiest Sam remembers him being in a while.

"I was offered my old job, kiddo."

"That's great news!" Sam rejoices. "I love it here. This way I get to spend my senior year with all of my new friends–"

"Sam… I meant my job in Tennessee."

When the Evanses left Tennessee, Sam thought it was the end of the world. And now that he has to leave Lima, he knows it is. There's no way he can leave McKinley; sure, he won't miss getting slushied, but leaving McKinley means leaving glee club. And leaving Titans football. And leaving Brittany. But most importantly, leaving Santana, the best friend he's ever had.


	14. Chapter 14

AU. When this started it wasn't. But now… it is. Also, feel free to check out my tumblr at **hufflepuffandpass . tumblr . com**

* * *

><p>"You need to tell her," Brittany says as she doodles on Sam's arm for the millionth time this summer. Luckily the drawings are strictly PG because they're babysitting Stacy and Stevie and his mom wouldn't be too happy if his siblings were subjected to such graphic images just yet. "You <em>know<em> I can't keep a secret and she keeps asking why you're avoiding her. You _should_ be spending as much time with her as you can. She likes you. And by that I mean she hasn't tried to stab you with a knife recently. You're her best friend besides me and Lord Tubbington."

"But Britt," Sam protests, "what if she kidnaps me so she can keep me here forever?"

Brittany laughs. "Well at least her basement is full of exercise equipment. They also have a tanning bed, which never really made sense to me. I bet if you asked real nice you could probably swim in the pool every once in a while, but you know, like, on a leash so you couldn't escape."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a very vivid imagination?" Sam asks.

"Lord Tubbington says that all the time," she says as she scoops Stacy up into a hug. "Isn't that right, Stace?"

"Britt-Britt, I wanna go swimming," Stacy says, obviously not caring what her big brother and his friend were talking about. "I heard you say something about the pool. Let's go," she whines.

"Yeah, plus we haven't seen Tana in a days," Stevie adds.

"You _love_ her," Stacy teases. "I don't know why though, she's never said two words to you."

"Sorry, guys," Sam says. "Last night someone broke into Santana's house and stole her pool."

They're too old to fall for it, but their faces still fall slightly. Considering it's an in ground pool, that would be a pretty spectacular feat.

"Did not," Stevie accuses.

"Don't let him pull your leg," Brittany tells them. "Besides, I just texted her and she said it was cool."

Stacy and Stevie rejoice and begin to rummage through their suitcases to find their bathing suits.

Brittany turns to Sam. "You'll thank me later," she says sweetly when she notices his scowl.

* * *

><p>Sam and Stevie make their way to the car while Brittany trails after them, holding his Stacy's hand.<p>

A man, presumably staying at the motel, comments, "You're a little young to have kids, aren't you? And no wedding rings, I see."

He's creepy and the lady with him has too much makeup.

"Oh no," Sam starts to say. "We're not-"

"I have a girlfriend, actually," Brittany tells him. "She just doesn't know it yet."

The stranger looks appalled. "The Bible –"

"I read that once," Brittany says, cutting him off. "To see why everyone is always fighting over it. It's kinda boring. But I do remember that it said something about how we are made in God's image and I'm pretty sure that makes Him bisexual."

"What's she talking about?" Stevie whispers to Sam.

Sam puts a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just say you've got some competition."

"You're taking that all out of context," the man argues.

"Um… so?" Brittany says. "That lady with you is a prostitute. I don't think you're supposed to do that either."

The man storms off with his 'friend' trailing behind. Brittany smirks at Sam.

"That's why you should never doubt the genius that is Brittany S. Pierce," he tells Stevie.

Sam doesn't pay attention to anything but the road on the way from the motel to Santana's house. He even picked the music for the short trip to Lima Heights, but his thoughts drown it out. She's not going to react well to the news.

So he'll let Brittany put her in a good mood first. Brittany always puts her in a good mood. And surprisingly she's waiting for them in the yard, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Santanaaa," Brittany half yells half sings as she leaps from the car the second Sam puts it in park. "Guess who I ran into today?"

"Umm, someone with bigger lips than Sam?" Santana guesses as they head inside.

"Nooo," Brittany says, wrapping Santana in a hug. "Try again."

Santana smiles. "I don't know."

"Remember that hooker we met?"

"Citrus Delight?" Santana asks, perking up slightly. "Really?"

"Really."

"Not to uh, pry or anything, but why do you two know a hooker?" Sam asks. Thankfully Stevie and Stacy are already playing out by the pool under the watchful eye of Santana's nanny.

"Picked my mom up one night at the station for disorderly conduct," Santana says with a shrug. "My dad was out of town so she was on a date. Must not have been a very good one because she was still drunk as a skunk by the time we got there."

"Citrus was waiting on her pimp to bail her out. She was super friendly and gave me some free advice," Brittany adds. "She told me to always get the money upfront."

"Oh geez," Sam mutters.

"What?" Brittany says. "It's not like I took that to heart. I let Santana run up a tab," she jokes as she plays with Santana's hair. The way the two are laying on the couch just looks so _comfortable_ and _right_ and Sam really doesn't have the heart to break it to Santana when she seems so damn _happy_. But it needs to be done. Waiting until the last minute will only piss her off more.

"Hey, uh, Santana?" he says, gathering all of the courage he can muster. "I have something to tell you."

Santana rolls her eyes. "If you're coming out to me, I suspected–"

"NO!" Sam responds quickly. "_Not_ that. It will _never_ be that."

"Fine. What is it?" she asks. When he doesn't say anything, she adds, "Really, Sam, whatever it is you can tell me. I… it's just that we're close now, you know? And I tell you everything – well, almost everything – that's going on with me. So I'd appreciate it if you'd return the favor."

"I'm moving at the end of the summer," he admits.

"You're – what? Why?" she asks, startled. She sinks into the couch, visibly upset.

"Dad's old job in Tennessee. I'm so sorry, Santana."

She looks at Brittany. "You knew," she states simply.

"Yeah," Brittany says. "He declined my offer to come on Fondue for Two."

* * *

><p>Honestly, Santana's non-reaction scares Sam the most. She sits there for the rest of the afternoon while they watch tv. She doesn't say anything. Brittany and Sam swim for a bit and come back inside. She hasn't moved. Her mother comes home and pesters her, but the words go in one ear and out the other. Brittany tries to cheer her up. It doesn't work.<p>

In fact nothing seems to faze her until the doorbell rings. Sam's a little surprised when she chooses to answer it, but it's probably the pizzas Adriana ordered for them and he suspects she's hungry.

"That'll be $23.97, babe," he hears. Considering her mom left the money on the kitchen table and she made a beeline for the door, he knows she'll need it. He swings by there to pick it up only to see a guy he used to work with trying to flirt with Santana.

"Hey Chad," Sam says as he walks over.

"Sam? Dude! It's been a while. Everyone at work still talks about that prank you pulled," Chad says. "You know, where you put pepperonis in the shape of a -"

"How much was it again, Chandler?" she asks, clearly disinterested. "Because Sam and I need our pizza so we can eat it in bed while watching Pulp Fiction. That is _if_ we make it through the whole movie."

Chad's face lights up when he hears it, not even caring that she's called him by the wrong name. "23.97," he repeats happily. "Sam, I just gotta tell you this, man, you were my hero before, but now you're like… a _legend_."

Santana snatches the pizzas out of Chad's hands and marches into the kitchen.

"Don't you ever get tired of pretending?" Sam asks her after he's done paying the kid.

"I'm not talking to you."

"Come on, Santana. Don't be like that."

"Oh, so it's okay for you to ignore me for days, but I can't be mad at you for two seconds? That's a little hypocritical, Fish."

"Summer's almost over."

She laughs darkly. "Yeah and you'll have to give up your cushy, freeloader job. I doubt you'll find anything this good in Bumfuck, Tennessee."

"I won't find a friend like you there, that's for sure," he tells her. "That's why I was afraid to tell you. I hate upsetting you. You and Britt are my best friends, oddly enough. So now that you know, can we please just spend the rest of the summer together doing what we do best – having fun?"

She's about to respond when Brittany walks in. "Hey Tana," Brittany says. "I was dancing in your room with Stevie and Stacy and I forgot all about dinner. Lucky for us your mom came and banged on the door. She said something about how she was going to bed early because she's planning on drinking tequila sunrises at sunrise and if we wanted any pizza, we needed to come get it before you scarfed it all down."

"Typical," Santana mutters.

"Maybe I should've left that second part out," Brittany says with a frown. "So did you two make up?"

"Yeah, Britt. We did," Santana tells her.

Brittany smiles. "You can totally thank me later for giving you guys some space."

The three of them spend the rest of the night watching movies with Sam's brother and sister. They goof off and throw popcorn and laugh and it feels _perfect_.

He'll miss this, he thinks.

He'll miss spending time with Brittany and Santana – together and individually. Before he moved to Lima, he had no idea how to talk to girls. Quinn taught him that. Then Santana taught him how to talk to girls and not sound like a complete idiot. Then – although he's still a little bitter about their sudden breakup – Mercedes taught him how to see a person for who they truly are. Lastly, Brittany taught him how to be friends with girls; something he knew nothing of at his old school. Brittany's the one who made them see past their differences. If it weren't for Brittany, Santana probably would've stabbed Sam a long time ago. So yeah, he really does need to thank her.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I'm considering doing an epilogue. I probably won't decide until after Tuesday's episode (3x08). Also, feel free to check out my tumblr at **hufflepuffandpass . tumblr . com**

... and yes, I am working on Chapter 9 of Dunder Mifflin, Lima Branch. Thank you all so much for the reviews/alerts/favorites on this story. It was so much fun to write!

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><p>August in Lima, Ohio is scorching hot. There hasn't been a breeze for days and clouds have been just as seldom to come by. Sam's sweating bullets and packing all of his belongings into his dad's car isn't cooling him down any. They're leaving tomorrow and he still hasn't gotten used to the idea that this crappy little motel – which he despised at the beginning because <em>hello<em>, who wants to share a room with their entire family – will no longer be his _home_. And yeah, sharing a bed with Stevie and Stacy – and occasionally winding up on the floor – sucked, but the whole experience only made them closer as a family. Stronger, too.

"Need any help?" a familiar voice calls.

Sam turns around. It's Santana. She dressed pretty similarly to the way she did that night at the graveyard – without makeup and her usual attire. This time she's wearing a Cheerios t-shirt and some denim shorts. He realizes that this might be the last time he sees the softer side of Santana and it breaks his heart a little. "Sure," he tells her. "How'd you get here anyway?"

"Britt dropped me off. She said Lord Tubbington was running low on gravy so she needed to run by the store."

Lord Tubbington never fails to amuse him. In the strangest, littlest way, he'll even miss Brittany's blob of a cat.

They work in silence for a while until she says, "I want to thank you, Sam."

"For what?" he asks.

"Not sure if you've really noticed, but I don't have many close friends. Part of it is because people can't handle my level of marvelousness, but I'm also not the kindest person in the world. Britt brings out a lot of good in me, but this summer I realized that you do too. I wish I'd known that all along because you've become my best guy friend despite your General Geekbar impressions," she says.

"Admiral Ackbar," Sam corrects. "Believe me, I was surprised too. I wanna tell you something, but you have to promise not to get mad."

"I never make promises I can't keep."

"At the start of the summer, I made it my goal to get you and Brittany together," he admits. "At the time it was mostly so you'd quit yelling at me and moping around, but now I truly see how good you are for each other."

"I don't know if me and Britt are quite there yet," she tells him as she packs one last box in the car. "But we just rejoined the Cheerios together. This morning, actually."

"You'll get there," he says honestly. "She's going to give you as much time as you need. She loves you, Santana."

* * *

><p>They decide to get lunch at Breadstix for old time's sake. Well, Sam wanted something a little more … tasty, but Santana insisted on the generic, hardly-classifies-as-Italian food. What a surprise. By the time they're done eating, she's got enough breadsticks stashed away to assemble a replica of the Eiffel Tower to scale. Well… almost.<p>

Sam goes to pay for their meal, but she stops him. "My treat," she says.

"You were wrong earlier when you said you weren't the kindest person in the world," he tells her as she signs her name to the receipt. "You definitely are. You gave me a job, a car for the summer, free babysitting for my brother and sister, and as cheesy as this sounds, you gave me hope."

Santana rolls her eyes, but she's not annoyed; in fact, Sam can tell that she's actually flattered by the compliments. "You, Sammy Evans, are as cheesy as they come."

He drops her off at her house so she can change, but she tells him to come over later. He doesn't think much of it and drives off, bopping along to _Head Over Feet_ as he goes. Knowing Santana, she's got something up her sleeve. She'll most likely try to force him into staying by using Chinese water torture or something equally unbearable.

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><p>He's thoroughly enjoying his nap in his strangely bare motel room when he gets a text telling him he has four minutes to get to her house. On average, the drive's about ten depending on the stoplights because if he's being honest, there's no real traffic around here. He makes it in around seven minutes– not bad considering he has to wait for Mrs. Hagberg to cross the street before he can turn at the corner of Elm and Main.<p>

The house looks even darker than usual when he arrives. Santana had sent him a text saying the door was open and to just come on in. And if Santana thinks he's going to change all the light bulbs in the house again –

"SURPRISE!"

Well… he should've seen _that _one coming.

The party's in full swing and just about everyone from the glee club is there. Mercedes, however, is conspicuously absent.

Santana notices Sam's disappointment and says, "If it makes you feel any better, her new boyfriend's about as blubbery as Lauren. In fact, he and Zizes should probably spend the rest of their days roaming the oceans searching for krill and singing whale songs to each other."

"Santana," he warns.

"What can I say," she shrugs, "I have a way with words. Besides, the ocean probably hasn't had a power couple of those proportions since Shamu and Free Willy. Speaking of which, I'm going to go hide the shrimp bowl from Lauren's cavernous mouth."

"Hey," Sam calls to her as she tries to slip away, "If I forget to tell you later, thanks for my party."

"Whatever," she says. "Don't thank me. My parents are chaperoning this shindig. I've had a million parties here and they've never cared before. Then I said I wanted to throw one for the glee club only and all of a sudden they're like totally interested in making sure no one drinks."

"It's 'cause they love me," Sam kids. She flicks him off before heading into the kitchen.

"Hey Sam," Finn yells from across the room, his arm wrapped around Rachel. "We're really going to miss you."

"Yeah right! Now you won't have any competition at quarterback," Sam says half-jokingly as he makes his way over to him.

Finn nods. "Yeah, but you were better than me anyway, so I bet at your new school you'll get the starting job pronto."

Sam thinks at that moment how easy it would've been to be best friends with Finn. But then Sam decides he'd take Santana over Finn any day.

"You smell like Old Spice."

Sam turns. It's Brittany. "Thanks. I, uh…"

"It's better than the Axe you used to wear," she tells him. "Now maybe girls at your next school won't think you have no game."

"What will I do without you, Brittany?" he asks.

She shrugs. "I dunno. Your life will be a lot more boring. You won't have to go on weed scavenger hunts or scrub pictures of schlongs off your body. And you probably also won't visit Westchestertonville or play trivia."

"Those were some of my favorite parts of this summer," he laughs.

She hugs him and he really, really, really doesn't want to let go… just like he didn't want this summer to end and just like he didn't want to move again.

The party winds down and Santana practically has to drag Rachel out the door. Sam and Brittany start to clean up some of the mess before Adriana stops them. "You don't have to do that, kids. It's why we have a maid," she tells them.

Dr. Lopez grins. "When's the last time the maid actually cleaned anything?" He doesn't wait for a response, but instead turns to Sam and says, "Son, we're really going to miss you around here. I know it didn't seem like we were around much, but you've done us a huge favor by keeping our Santana out of the doghouse. Believe it or not, I think this is the first summer since she's met Brittany that she hasn't gotten in trouble."

"That's because she was in trouble to start with!" Adriana interjects. "But my husband's right, Sam. So that's why we wanted to thank you by being here at your party."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Santana says to her parents after shuffling back into the house. "Now scram, _por favor_. We young folk have some hardcore hanging out to do before Cinderella's carriage turns back into a pumpkin. So goodnight."

Dr. Lopez shrugs, but doesn't chastise his daughter for getting an attitude. Adriana huffs and follows her husband upstairs.

"God, Santana. That was mean," Sam comments.

She pretends to inspect her nails. "I'm working on it. Having everyone in the glee club know where I live puts me on edge a little bit. I don't want to come home and find Rachel Berry waiting on my doorstep. That's how six of my top ten nightmares begin."

"And three of your top ten fantasies," Brittany quips.

"You swore never to repeat that, Britts," Santana whispers.

Sam decides it's best to change the subject. "So, what's the plan for tonight? It's …" he checks his watch. "… 10 PM. Wow, that party ended early."

"Santana told everyone that if they were still here by 9:45, she'd get her dad's baseball bat out of the garage and start heading for their cars. She wanted the three of us to have some time together."

They do all of the things they normally do – eat snacks, watch television, go for a late night swim – but there's a certain finality to it. Sam promises to meet up with Brittany and Santana later in life, but he'll never have this summer with them again. So he replays every moment in his mind until his head is reeling with memories.

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><p>"Sam, wake up!" Santana commands. "Your parents are gonna kill you."<p>

"What?" he asks, disoriented.

"You spent the night on my couch, that's what."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he accuses.

"Me and Britt were busy _elsewhere_."

"Oh. Well, congratulations?"

"Please stop talking," she says as she hands him a shirt. He looks down because he's certain he's already wearing one and then he sees it's the Star Wars shirt he let her borrow when she and Brittany were awkwardly naked and trapped in a public restroom.

"You keep it," he tells her. "To remember me by."

"Aw, does this mean we're going steady again?" she taunts.

He smiles. "No, it just means you're really, really gonna miss me."

"Damn. I wish I had some article of clothing for you. Stay right there. I have this low-cut top that'll look _fantastic_ on you," she says.

Sam's parents aren't all that thrilled when he shows up at ten o'clock in the morning with rumpled hair and two teenage girls trailing behind him. But they don't say anything to him about it in front of Stacy or Stevie, thankfully. Since the car's already packed, however, they do want to get on the road.

Brittany takes the opportunity to whisper in his ear. "She needs you in her life, okay? I do too. Don't forget about us."

"How could I ever forget you, Brittany Susan Pierce?" he whispers back. "Or Santana? I'm going to be there for graduation and when you get married to each other and everything else. I better be the godfather to your kids."

She sniffles a little and clings to him in another hug that feels shorter than it actually is.

Then it's Santana's turn and he sees that she's already crying. "Well, at least you'll have a kickass essay for college," she sobs.

He's confused. "About being homeless?" he asks.

"No… about your summer as my chauffer."

He bursts into laughter which only makes her cry harder. "You're supposed to be crying with me, not sniggering like an asshole," she says.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you're right. My job driving you around _is_ a much more interesting story," he says. "I don't regret anything."

"You better not," she says. Her attempt at her usual cattiness is feeble at best. There's no stopping the tears once they've started.

"I'll miss you so much," he says. Then he adds, "I was talking to the car, by the way."

She giggles a little, then punches him lightly. "Don't make me murder you in front of your family and a couple other witnesses," she says as she pulls something out of her purse. "But I'll miss you too. Here. It's your last paycheck. Don't spend it all in one place, you hear?"

He takes the envelope and shoves it in his back pocket. Looking back on it, he would've done it all for free if his parents hadn't needed the money so badly.

She turns to go, but before she can get into the passenger seat of her own car he yells, "Hey Santana! You better start working on your insults now. I wanna hear 'em when I come back so I know _some _things haven't changed."

She smiles sadly. "Sure thing, Sam."

And just like that, it was the perfect end to a perfect summer.


	16. Chapter 16

So this is the very end. And to be honest, I'm glad I wrote this because I realized I wasn't quite ready to let this story go either. But you never know – maybe I'll write a sequel… eventually. Warning: More F bombs than usual... I think.

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><p><em>Epilogue<em>

"…by that little gay elf dentist. Love, Santana."

He expected this. Requested it, even. So all Sam can do when Santana's done with her tirade is smile and say, "I missed you too, Santana."

Because he did. He really, really did. His school in Kentucky didn't have slushies, but it also didn't have his best friend. The one who - by everything Finn's told him - was forced out of the closet not too long ago. But she seems like she's doing alright. She's got this goofy little smirk on her face when he hugs her and she doesn't seem all that embarrassed by him like she did at the start of the summer.

Yeah, it's good to be back at McKinley.

"Hello – Earth to Sam," she says, struggling to get out of his tight grip. "Either let go of me or I'll bring out the big guns: my entire notebook devoted to insulting a little movie known as _Avatar_."

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><p>"So Finn said that you two, along with Mercedes, just up and left New Directions," Sam says through a mouthful of pasta. The buffet at Stallionz was terrible compared to Breadstix. And he hates Breadstix. But he'll eat just about anything if it means spending time with his favorite couple.<p>

Santana, right arm looped through Brittany's, snorts. "That little fucking fucker! He _would_ tell you the SparkNotes version," she says.

"I love SparkNotes," Brittany comments. "My Language Arts teacher does too. He copy/pastes the quizzes. It's totally why I have an A in that class. Or maybe a B+."

"First stop Student Council President, next stop White House," Santana says, nudging her playfully.

Brittany blushes. "There's a few things I wanna do before we move to Pennsylvania Avenue."

Santana grins. "Anyway," she tells Sam, "we didn't just 'up and leave' as that grody cunt bitch Finn put it. Schue kicked me out like the first week! I practically _begged_ to come back."

"Overdramatic," Brittany teases. "You did not have to beg."

"So then this whiny, bossy chick –"

"Sugar," Brittany interjects.

"_Sugar Motta_," Santana says, rolling her eyes, "got her daddy to pay for this second group and now we're the shit because me and Britt are the stars."

"What about Mercedes?" Sam asks.

Brittany says, "She's the one who recruited us. Hey! You should join, too."

"Part of the reason I came back was to help New Directions," Sam tells her.

"That's a lost cause. The Troubletones are going to rip you to shreds," Santana replies. "Besides, _Mercedes _is all about the TTs and I bet she'd let you in. Granted, you'd be the only member without a vagina, but that's one less distraction for me."

Seeing the look on Sam's face, Brittany adds, "She's kidding about the last part."

"I know," Sam assures her. "Santana still has a way of catching me off-guard sometimes."

"Like it's hard, Big Mouth Billy Bass," Santana taunts.

"Maybe I'd be more in the loop if you hadn't defriended me on Facebook," Sam counters. He'd pretty much stalked her profile so he wouldn't miss any relationship status changes until one day it had disappeared. "I barely heard from you at all, now that I think about it, except for a few texts here and there."

It's then he realizes something is wrong. That there's something _major_ Finn hasn't told him. Brittany's refusing to make eye contact with either of them. She's got her nose scrunched up like she's mere seconds away from crying. Santana's just as visibly saddened all of a sudden.

"I deactivated my account as a precaution when the… when the commercial outing me aired," she explains slowly, as though the words would take the breath right out of her if she spoke too quickly.

"Santana –" he begins.

She cuts him off. "I didn't want friend requests from every lesbian in Ohio or guys like Josh Douchebag to add me. And it's because of Finn. I know a lot of people think he's some hero, but in my eyes, he's kind of the evil villain everyone makes me out to be."

She begins to cry and Sam feels guilty for ever leaving – even if he didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Finn sucks," Brittany adds while rubbing Santana's back. "So does Rachel, but that's because she totally gypped me when I made her clothing style popular. That wasn't enough money to feed my uncle's goat at all."

"Well, I'm here if you need me," Sam says. "I'll even chauffeur you around for old time's sake. Whatever you want."

Santana sniffles. "Mind taking care of the check?"

"Cheapskate," Sam jokes.

"Said the stripper to the heiress," she fires back.

She hasn't lost her quick wit, that's for sure. It's normally her defense mechanism, but it's all in good fun among friends. He's tempted to tell her that all she'll inherit is a house in the middle of _Lima_ and a nanny with a penchant for blackmail, but he thinks better of it.

Instead he takes the bill up to the counter, but not without hearing Brittany whisper not-so-subtly to Santana, "When you said TTs it sounded like titties, which reminded me of something on my to-do list for today… you."

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><p>The next few days are a blur – he's got songs and choreography to memorize, Quinn tries to convince him to have her next baby, and he can't look at Finn or Blaine without wanting to punch either of them, but for entirely different reasons. He finally tracks Mercedes down in the hallway and she looks just as beautiful as ever, if not more so. She shoots him down, but it's a half-hearted effort at best, so he knows he's still got a chance.<p>

The day of the competition he catches a ride with Rachel who drills him on every step and lyric so that by the time they reach the high school, he's ready to make a break for it.

Luckily the first people he sees are none other than Brittany and Santana. Rachel doesn't seem to mind that he barrels out of her car faster than The Flash, but he's out of breath by the time he makes it across the parking lot. It's times like this that he really misses football conditioning.

"You're sweating," Santana says with disdain. She takes a step back.

"That's too bad because I came over here for a hug," he jokes. "Anyway, I wanted to wish you luck. I know there's some hostility between our groups, but y'all are my best friends. You're gonna kill it."

"Thanks, Sam. Break a leg out there," Santana tells him sincerely as the three begin to walk toward the April Rhodes Civic Pavilion.

"Sam?" Brittany says as she threads her fingers through Santana's. "You should sneak backstage during our performance. That way you're the first person Cedes sees when we're done."

Brittany's advice pays off; surely enough, Mercedes has never looked more excited to see him and doesn't protest one bit when he sweeps her into a hug. But the Troubletones don't win and it's the most bittersweet moment Sam can recall in his lifetime – besides that day in August when he left Lima. He's a little too caught up in New Directions' victory to see just how disappointed Brittany and Santana are, but he does notice that Mercedes is frozen in place. But now's not the time to console her, as much as he wants to. It'd come off as gloating and he knows winning her back will take time.

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><p>It's not until <em>after<em> Brittany and Santana rejoin glee club that he speaks to them again. It's not like the summer where he spent almost every waking moment with one or both of them. It's a weird feeling.

Santana's the first to find him. Oddly enough, it's the exact spot where she also approached him with a job opportunity.

"There's one thing that's been bothering me," Santana says in that authoritative tone Sam knows so well. "You said you were going back to Tennessee, but Finn the Flying Fucktard picked you up in Methlab, Kentucky."

Sam slams his locker shut. "My dad's company had already filled the position by the time we got there. They didn't bother telling us. The boss's son needed a job worse than my family did, I guess. Or at least that's the only explanation I've been able to come up with."

"You could probably sue," Santana replies.

Sam shrugs. "Can't afford a lawyer."

"Pisses you off, doesn't it?"

He nods.

"Wanna go wreck some exercise equipment? Lima Fitness Center recently lifted my ban."

He laughs because it's so _Santana_. "You're only saying that because _you're_ still upset about the Troubletones losing," he says.

She smiles. "Brittany says that glee club is like a family. And yeah, I've pretty much always been the problem child in that family, but I'm glad to be a part of it again. Even if it means I won't be in the spotlight as much. Besides, now that my best guy friend is back, we have some serious catching up to do. Starting with your hair…"

Luckily, he's spared.

"Santana," Brittany calls, "there you are! Oh, hey Sam! I wanted to talk to you, too. My car won't start. Jacob offered to jump me, but I said no because that's weird and I don't allow people other than Santana to do that."

"My license is still revoked," Santana adds. "Although I may have illegally driven to school today. Old habits die hard, you know."

"Let me get this straight," Sam says. "So even though Brittany could totally drive your car, Santana, you both want me to do it? I don't know, I think that might cost you."

"How about," Brittany says slyly, "_we_ help _you_ with Mercedes? Like, returning the favor and stuff."

"Yeah, plus we're totally better at this whole romance thing than you ever were, so it'll be a piece of cake," Santana claims.

"Something tells me you two planned this," Sam says, suddenly suspicious of their true intentions. He sighs. "Alright, fork over the keys."

But Brittany's too quick for him – she snatches the keys out of Santana's hand and holds them high above her head. "Last one there is a rotten egg!" she squeals.

"No Justin Bieber," Santana stipulates as they race out to the car.

"Whoever's first gets to choose!" Brittany says, but only because she's winning by a longshot.

It's like summer all over again - and that's not a feeling he ever wants to forget.

_Maybe it's true what they say; everything comes full circle_, Sam thinks as he turns the ignition and Santana settles into the backseat with her girlfriend in tow.


End file.
